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Our Little Quebec Cousin 


THE 


Little Cousin Series 

(trade mark) 


Each volume illustrated with six or more full page plates in 
tint. Cloth, 12 mo, with decorative cover 
per volume, 60 cents 

LIST OF TITLES 

By Col. F. A. Postnikov, Isaac Taylor Head- 
land, Edward C. Butler, and Others 


Our Little African Cousin 
Our Little Alaskan Cousin 
Our Little Arabian Cousin 
Our Little Argentine Cousin 
Our Little Armenian Cousin 
Our Little Australian Cousin 
Our Little Austrian Cousin 
OUT Little Belgian Cousin 
Our Little Bohemian Cousin 
Our Little Boer Cousin 
Our Little Brazilian Cousin 
Our Little Bulgarian Cousin 
Our Little Canadian Cousin 
of the Maritime Provinces 
Our Little Chinese Cousin 
Our Little Cossack Cousin 
Our Little Cuban Cousin 
Our Little Danish Cousin 
Our Little Dutch Cousin 
Our Little Eg3rptian Cousin 
Our Little English Cousin 
Our Little Eskimo Cousin 
Our Little Finnish Cousin 
Our Little French Cousin 
Our Little German Cousin 
Our Little Grecian Cousin 
Our Little Hawaiian Cousin 
Our Little Hindu Cousin 


Our Little Hungarian Cousin 
Our Little Indian Cousin 
Our Little Irish Cousin 
Our Little Italian Cousin 
Our Little Japanese Cousin 
Our Little Jewish Cousin 
Our Little Korean Cousin 
Our Little Malayan (Brown) 
Cousin 

Our Little Mexican Cousin 
Our Little Norwegian Cousin 
Our Little Panama Cousin 
Our Little Persian Cousin 
Our Little Philippine Cousin 
Our Little Polish Cousin 
Our Little Porto Rican Cousin 
Our Little Portuguese Cousin 
Our Little Roumanian Cousin 
Our Little Russian Cousin 
Our Little Scotch Cousin 
Our Little Servian Cousin 
Our Little Siamese Cousin 
Our Little Spanish Cousin 
Our Little Swedish Cousin 
Our Little Swiss Cousin 
Our Little Turkish Cousin 
Our Little Quebec Cousin 


THE PAGE COMPANY 


53 Beacon Street 


Boston, Mass. 






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AT FIRST OISETTE WAS TERRIBLY SHY 

(See page 37) 



I Our Little | 
I Quebec Cousin I 


By 

Mary S. Saxe 


Illustrated by 

Charles E. Meister 


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Boston 


The Page Company 

MDCCCCXIX 


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Copyright, 1919, 

By The Page Company 

All rights reserved 


First Impression, April, 1919 



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MAV -5 lai3 

©CI.Aoa 53 C 3 


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Dedicated to 

Br. 

A LONG-LEGGED ONTARIO COUSIN, 

WHO INSISTED IT CAME WITHIN MY PROVINCE 


TO WRITE THIS LITTLE BOOK 



« 


PREFACE 


The Province of Quebec covers an area of 
over one hundred thousand square miles, and Is 
the largest province In all the Dominion of 
Canada. The latter country Is sometimes called 
British North America, but this particular prov- 
ince Is very French indeed. 

The persistency of French nationality In 
Canada is remarkable. The formal guarantees 
of the Treaty of Paris and the Quebec Act, 
that language, religion, and laws should be pre- 
served, undoubtedly has saved Quebec from 
extinction by conquest. 

This great province Is bounded on the north 
by Labrador and the Gulf of the St. Lawrence, 
and on the south by New Brunswick and the 
States of Maine, New Hami^shlre and Vermont 
and New York. 

The great St. Lawrence river flows through 


vi Preface 

its entire length, and is navigable for ships as 
far as the city of Quebec; while great ocean- 
going liners come from the Old World and up 
this river as far as the city of Quebec, and those 
of not more than five thousand tons continue up 
the river as far as Montreal. This latter city 
is Canada’s largest and most important settle- 
ment. 

The city of Quebec is the capital of the prov- 
ince from which it derives its name, and once, 
long years ago, it was the capital of all Canada, 
and is still known as “ The ancient capital.” 

It is certainly a very picturesque part of the 
New World, and not the least interesting arc 
the French Canadian people, descendent of the 
early voyageurs who came to this corner of the 
globe as early as the year 15.35 A. D. One still 
finds in lower Canada the same spirit that kept 
up the fight for the Fleur de lis long after 
the “ few acres of snow ” had been abandoned 
by the French King, Louis Fourteenth. ^ 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER PAGE 

Preface v 

I An Introduction ...... i 

II Two Wonderful Events . . . . 17 

III New Year’s Day 29 

IV New Neighbors 36 

V A Sight-Seeing Tour . . * . . .52 

VI A Little Traveler 75 

VII The City of Quebec 87 

VIII At Home 112 


vii 



Illustrations 


PAGE 


List of 


At first Oisette was terribly shy." (See page 3^) 

Frontispiece 



“Mr. Sage . . . was waving a greenback in Mon- 
sieur Tremblent^s face" 

“Bernadette . . . looked up" 

“They drove into the city" . . . . , 

“ Some of the boys arriving on snowshoes brought 
friends with them " 

“ * Are you going to the Citadel in one of those 

FUNNY CALECHE THINGS?/" 


18 

21 

25 

29 




/ 

/ 



100 



Our Little Quebec Cousin 


CHAPTER I 

AN INTRODUCTION 

The traveler who comes to visit on the island 
of Montreal gets no correct idea of the beauty 
of it all until he has climbed to the top of 
Mount Royal, which rises directly behind the 
great city of Montreal in the Province of 
Quebec. From this elevation, about one thou- 
sand feet above sea level, the observer beholds 
not only the banks of the St. Lawrence river, 
with its warehouses, grain elevators and 
shipping; he sees not only this solidly built city 
of churches — but far to his left stretches the 
farming country of the Province of Quebec, 
far to his right, on clear days he can see the 

I 


2 Our Little Quebec Cousin 

Adirondack Mountains and Lake Champlain, 
while on the opposite shores of the St. Law- 
rence, spanned by the once famous Victoria 
Bridge, he sees the villages of Longueil and St. 
Lambert. 

Then, from the very summit of this moun- 
tain, he must also look behind him and see the 
numerous small towns and villages that lie back 
of Mount Royal, all of these being reached by 
tramways which run out from Montreal. 

The largest of these settlements are known, 
one as Outremont, the other as Cote-des-Neiges; 
translated into English these would be known as 
“ behind the mountain ” and “ hill of snow.” 

It was in the latter village of Cote-des-Neiges 
that little Oisette Mary Tremblent, our little 
Canadian, or, rather, our little Quebec cousin, 
was born. The French Canadian child is the 
product of five generations of French people 
whose ancestors came from France with Cham- 
plain and Jacques Cartier, and who, when the 


An Introduction 


3 

British won Canada from France, were allowed 
by the British to keep their own tongue, their 
own religion and their own flag. 

Let me introduce Oisette Mary Tremblent, 
our little Quebec cousin, to you. Behold, then, 
a very plump little girl, with skin the color of 
saffron tea and a nose as flat as flat can be. 
[There never were such bead-like eyes, nor such 
black shiny hair as hers. 

She usually wore a black and red checked 
dress of worsted, with bright blue collar and 
cuffs, and around her neck was a purple ribbon, 
on which was hung a silver medal. On this 
medal was stamped the figure of the Blessed 
Virgin Mary. 

It will be seen that Oisette Mary’s people 
loved gay colors. 

She was a very happy little girl from the 
time she slipped out of bed in the morning, 
always awakened by the neighboring church 
bell of the parish ringing its three strokes — 


4 Our Little Quebec Cousin 

“ Father, Son and Holy Ghost” When she 
heard this bell, Oisette bowed her little head 
three times and made the sign of the Cross. 

Her day was thirteen hours long and she 
knew no naps I Small wonder that she fell 
asleep the moment her head touched the pil- 
lows, and she heard nothing of the violin play- 
ing, the singing and sometimes dancing that 
went on in the rooms below stairs. 

Oisette Mary had two older sisters away at 
a convent school, two older brothers, one al- 
ready studying for the priesthood, and one 
small baby brother, who spent long hours on 
the cottage floor with “ Carleau ” the dog, for 
company. 

A family of six children! What a large 
family you think? Not at all! French Cana- 
dian families frequently number twelve or 
more, and less than ten children is counted as 
a small household. 

Monsieur Tremblent, Oisette’s father, owned 


An Introduction 


5 

a large and valuable melon patch. You know 
Montreal melon is famous the world over; and 
on fine days in August one could see Monsieur 
Tremblent walking slowly along, counting his 
melons as they grew. 

“ Un, deux, trois, quatre,” he would murmur. 
In his wake little Oisette would follow, gay little 
parrot that she was, also repeating after him. 
“ Cinque, six, sept, huit.” In this way she 
had learned to count. 

Now, it happened that the tenth melon was 
a large fine one, and, when Oisette beheld it, 
she sat right down beside it, put her two little 
arms around it and murmured: “ C’est pour 
Monsieur, le Cure,” which translated into Eng- 
lish reads: “This is for the priest.” Her 
father chuckled and said to Louis, her brother, 
who was weeding hard by, “ She is just like 
her mother, the little one, she always remembers 
the priest.” 

Madame Tremblent was diminutive in sta- 


6 Our Little Quebec Cousin 

ture, her two interests in life were her home and 
her church ; she understood the English language 
as she heard it spoken, but she had never at- 
tempted to utter a word in English herself, 
nor could she read a line of anything but French. 

Her husband wore a silk hat and frock coat 
on Sundays and Holy Days, he attended political 
meetings and was a keen politician, could ad- 
dress a meeting in either tongue, as can most 
young Canadian Frenchmen; but Madame ap- 
parently took no interest other than to see that 
her husband’s coat was well brushed, his silk 
hat very glossy indeed. 

She consulted her priest when anything wor- 
ried her, she had so little faith in banks that 
she always carried her house-keeping money 
either in her stocking or in her petticoat pockets. 

There came a day in early September when 
quantities of melons were gathered for the mar- 
ket, put in the big farm wagon, and Oisette 
was allowed to sit by her father on the high 


An Introduction 


7 

seat as they drove to the Bonsecour Market in 
Montreal. The start was made in the early 
morning. Oisette sang to herself as they 
rumbled along. 

“ Alouette, gentille Alouette, Alouette, Je te plumerai, 
Je te plumerai la tete, Je te plumerai la tete, 

O Alouette, gentille Alouette, Alouette, Je te plu- 
merai.” ^ 

The French Canadian is apt to sing when 
he is very happy, and Oisette was especially 
happy to-day, for she knew that that tenth 
melon, or one very like it, had been left in the 
front vestibule of her home, ready to be sent 
to the priest’s home later in the day. 

There is one quality that the French Canadian 
child has, which is not always to be found in 
children of every nationality: namely, obedi- 

1 “ Alouette, stylish Alouette, Alouette, I adorn myself for 
thee, 

For thee I adorn the head, For thee I adorn the head, 

Oh Alouette, pretty Alouette, I adorn myself for thee.” 

In translation this popular song seems to lose all meaning, 
rhythm and sentiment. One needs to hear the appeal in the 
French Canadian voice as he dwells on the “ Oh Alouetta.” 


8 Our Little Quebec Cousin 

cnce. One seldom finds a naughty or willful 
little French boy or girl. They are stolid per- 
haps and placid, but there is no kicking or 
screaming. 

On this particular September morning, 
Oisette, when the Bonsecour Market was finally 
reached, waited patiently for her father, she 
sat on the high seat now by herself. The 
team, along with many others, was lined up 
beside the market. From this perch she could 
see the beautiful river, the boats coming in 
and leaving the harbor; she could see the 
wharves and the loading and unloading of great 
steamers. It was all very fascinating. 

Then back of her was the great market, all 
the stalls were piled high with fruit and vege- 
tables of every size and shape in a riot of 
color. 

Along the pavement were coops of live 
chickens and turkeys. There were long 
pouches of “ black pudding,” dangling from the 


An Introduction 


9 

booths. The stalls were heaped with home 
grown tobacco, dark slabs of maple sugar, home 
woven toweling, curtains, rugs, carpets, firmly 
knit socks, elaborately plaited mats. A charm 
and a glamor hangs over the generally com- 
monplace business of buying and selling, getting 
gain, and making provision for the needs of 
the day. The whole thing is like a gay picture 
book. There are groups of habitant women, 
all talking in chorus; the queer little blue and 
red carts that have come from across the river 
by ferry; the small pink pigs squealing their 
hardest as they are lifted from the crates of 
the vendors to the sacks of the purchasers; 
the squawking of fowls whose end is near. 
Certainly Bonsecour Market is a spot to be 
visited if one would see the Habitant in his 
happiest mood. 

About ten o’clock the customers arrive. 
There are lovely ladies in limousines, and some- 
times there would hop out of a motor a pretty 


10 Our Little Quebec Cousin 

little English Canadian girl, to buy some nuts 
from open bags which always stand in rows 
along the pavements. 

One day a very lively little missie gave Oisette 
a handful of English walnuts and invited her 
to climb down and come inside the market 
and see some little pigs. 

But Oisette had been told to remain on 
guard, and remain she did. Now and then 
she would have a glimpse of her father as he 
went from stall to stall disposing of his stock. 

One of his best customers was an old Irish 
dame, who had a French name because she 
had married in her youth one Alphonse Le- 
Blanc, but she did not speak French at all. 
She was very popular with the English cus- 
tomers, and many of the “quality” (as she 
called them), bought her fruit and vegetables 
because she spoke their tongue. Her manners, 
too, made her famous throughout the market. 
As a customer arrived, she would make a deep 


An Introduction 


11 


curtsy, as though Royalty approached, and 
would say in her rich brogue “ And what fer 
yez, Darlin? ” 

One market day, when a cold slanting rain 
came on, Madame LeBlanc insisted that Mon- 
sieur Tremblent should lift little Oisette down 
and bring her inside Madame’s stall. 

So she was made very cozy beside a diminu- 
tive stove, known as a Quebec heater. It cer- 
tainly was a very warmth giving stove, with 
a black iron kettle on the top, which poured 
forth a long plume of white steam. On a shelf 
hard by a big yellow and black cat purred 
very loud, as though trying to beat the kettle. 
He was flanked on each side by pyramids of 
cheese. 

In spite of wind and weather, customers ar- 
rived, one and two at a time; they would step 
inside one at a time, leaving just room enough 
for Madame to curtsy. Most of them noticed 
Oisette and asked Madame about her. When 


12 Our Little Quebec Cousin 

Monsieur Tremblent came back at last to call 
for his little girl, he found she had made friends 
with the cat and had her pockets full of latire 
(molasses candy), and was holding a big red 
apple. Small wonder that her face was 
wreathed in smiles. 

When her father opened the door, Oisette 
heard Madame say: “ Come in, dear, shut 
the door, and we’ll have a cup of tay.” 

A cup of this strong brewing was prepared 
for little Oisette as a matter of course — which 
may explain why her complexion was so murky. 

On this particular market day however, as 
she sat beside her father, the fresh September 
breeze gave her a very bright color, and her 
eyes were shining with excitement. Several 
lovely things had happened, all of which she 
would remember to tell her mother about when 
home was reached. First there was a band 
of music leading some fine-looking soldier boys 
along the road, and the tune was very catch- 


An Introduction 


13 

ing. The boys were all singing “ Over There ’’ 
as they swung along. Then, because some road 
was closed for repairs, her father had driven 
into town by a new route and she saw, for the 
first time, a statue of the late King Edward 
the Seventh, which she admired very much. 
Then after the big market wagon rumbled down 
a very steep long hill, she saw the monument 
in Place d^Armes Square known as “ The Land- 
ing of Maisonneuve.’’ 

This was an old friend, but she was never 
tired of looking at it, and knew all the figures 
about the base. There was the fierce Iroquois 
Indian crouching for his prey. There was the 
huntsman with his gun and dog; there was the 
sweet-faced nun, Jeanne Mance, who founded 
the order of Black Nuns in Canada, and then, 
atop of all, was the dashing French Cavalier 
Maisonneuve in his plumed hat, corselet and 
top boots. He was the founder of this great 
city of Montreal in the year 1642. 


14 Our Little Quebec Cousin 

She was never tired of hearing the story of 
those early days as her father told it to her. 

How the brave voyageurs had come to a 
land filled with hostile tribes of Indians. First 
these adventurous Frenchmen settled in Que- 
bec, the city of Quebec was founded, and then 
Paul de Comedy, Sire de Maisohneuve, being 
anxious to follow up this great river St. Law- 
rence, coaxed his men to row with him the one 
hundred and sixty miles right against a swift 
current until they came to Mount Royal and 
beheld the swift rapids in the river; these are 
now called Lachine Rapids. So they decided 
to land and build another village. 

One can read in Parkman’s history a very 
clear picture of that scene, just at twilight when 
they stepped from their boats and tired as they 
were, they stopped to build an altar and hold 
a mass of thanksgiving to God for the safe 
journey. For lights on that altar, they im- 
prisoned fireflies in bottles and the company 


An Introduction 


15 

all knelt on the ground while the mass was said. 
They were watched by hostile Iroquois Indians 
who lurked in the shadow of the trees. 

All this was long long ago. There are no 
more Indians wearing blankets nowadays. But 
on this spot where mass was said rises the 
great solid city of Montreal with its two na- 
tionalities, French and English, trying to live 
in harmony. 

This statue stands in Place d^Armes Square, 
just in front of the famous Notre Dame church, 
with its twin towers, two hundred and twenty- 
seven feet high. In these towers hang some 
famous chimes. One bell of this chime weighs 
twenty-four thousand seven hundred and eighty 
pounds and is known as the Great Bourdon. 
It takes seven men to ring it, and it has a deep 
booming note that is heard for miles. 

There is a legend about this corner of the 
square where this church stands. It seems that 
there is always a breeze blowing just here. 


i6 Our Little Quebec Cousin 

even the very hottest day in summer, and the 
story goes that on this corner the Devil and 
the Wind once met, and the wind as it swept 
up from the river and swirled around the cor- 
ner said to the Devil: “ I’ll travel along with 
you,” and Satan replied, “ Before we start, I 
must go into this great church here and con- 
fess my sins, so you wait around this corner 
until I am done.” And the wind said : “Very 
well. I’ll hang around.” Now, when the Devil 
got into the confessional, he had so many sins 
to confess that he is still there, and the wind 
still waits on that corner; waiting, waiting. 

One day when Oisette Mary drove past that 
street corner, the wind did sweep up through 
the narrow street, from the river, swirl around 
the corner and away went her hat rolling across 
the square, driven by the summer breeze until 
it was caught at the base of the Maisonneuve 
monument and finally handed back to her by a 
French boy. So she never forgot the legend. 


CHAPTER II 


TWO WONDERFUL EVENTS 

One Saturday afternoon, in fact the very 
next day after the market trip, Oisette’s father 
could have been seen walking through the vil- 
lage street; he was carrying under his arm that 
tenth melon, or one very like it, which his 
daughter had selected for the Cure. 

In his wake came our little Quebec cousin, 
her red ribbons bobbing along. Carleau, the 
dog, was at her heels, his short tail, as he 
walked, moved like the rudder on a boat. 

This village street, with its white plaster 
houses and rows of poplar trees, was very 
picturesque. There was a yellow sunlight 
tipped over everything. Just as this little pro- 
cession crossed the dusty road to enter the 


17 


i8 Our Little Quebec Cousin 

rectory gate, a big motor came purring along. 
In the tonneau were two ladies and a dear 
little girl; the latter had flying yellow curls. 

“ Pappa,” she called, “ see the big melon I ” 
Now pappa was at the wheel, driving his own 
car. He was watching the road carefully; he 
had fears lest the little French girl might sud- 
denly dart in front of the car; he had also ob- 
served Carleau, but the melon was the one 
thing in the foreground that he had missed; 
and, strange to say, a melon was the very thing 
these people had set out to find. 

So, in the twinkling of an eye, the big car 
was brought to a full stop and Mr. Sage, its 
owner, was waving a greenback in Monsieur 
Tremblent’s face. 

Mr. Sage was naturally a silent man, his 
motto was “ Money talks.” Therefore he was 
somewhat amazed that the owner of the melon 
did not hand the fruit to him at once ; and still 
more surprised was he to see Oisette Mary give 



MR. SAGE . . , WAS WAVING A GREENBACK IN MONSIEUR 

TREMBLENT^S FACE 





Two Wonderful Events ig 

one of her funny little bows and hear her say: 
“ Pardon Monsieur, c’est pour Monsieur le 
Cure,” and then she added in English “ but 
there ace many more chez moi.” 

The ladies laughed in chorus and repeatetj 
“ Many more at your house, then jump right 
in and show us the way.” 

“More as good as that one, eh?” asked 
Mr. Sage, as he opened the car door. 

Monsieur Tremblent was dumb with surprise, 
he had been inclined to accept the offer and 
turn back to get another melon for the Cure, 
but Oisette won the day by jumping into the 
car. “ I always have good luck,” he told his 
priest afterward, “ when I take the little one.” 

Those people not only bought three melons, 
but promised to come again. 

When Oisette Mary was eight years of age 
two very wonderful events occurred, which 
events stood out in her memory for all time. 

One was when she took her first communion 


20 Our Little Quebec. Cousin 

in the month of May, which all good Catholics 
know as the month of Mary; and the second 
was at the end of that same year, on Christmas 
Eve, when she was allowed to attend the mid- 
night mass with her parents for the first time. 

Little girls who take their first communion 
are such a pretty sight, for they are all dressed 
in white; white stockings, white slippers, dress 
and veil and around their heads each one has 
a wreath of white flowers. 

,The church service is always early in the 
day. Oisette’s communion was given at a pic- 
turesque little church in the East End of Mont- 
real. This church is known as Notre Dame 
de Lourdes. (Our Lady of Lourdes.) It is 
a copy of the larger church at Lourdes, France, 
and over the high altar is a representation of 
a little girl kneeling before an image of the 
Blessed Virgin Mary. Almost a century ago 
there was a little girl in Lourdes, France, named 
Bernadette, who being sent one morning very 




I 



Two Wonderful Events 21 

early to a grotto, by her parents, was told to 
bring home a pitcher of spring water from 
the clear spring that bubbled there, and the 
legend was that when Bernadette knelt to catch 
the water she looked up and saw, high on a 
rock in the grotto, the figure of the Blessed 
Virgin Mary, and the Virgin smiled at her 
and told her that the water had a healing 
power. Ever since that time many pilgrims 
have visited Lourdes in France and been healed 
by its waters. 

Certainly the little church in Montreal has 
a decided charm. Directly a visitor enters he 
observes over the high altar the figure of little 
Bernadette kneeling in her blue dress and white 
cap and above her is the figure of the Virgin. 
Lights above the Virgin’s head are so arranged 
that a most beautiful glow falls upon her face 
and figure. Children all love this little church, 
and it is a pretty sight to see them marching 
through its portals two and two. The small 


22 Our Little Quebec Cousin 

boys look well in black suits, white collars and 
white ribbons tied on the left arm. But they 
get little attention, admiration all being centered 
on the dainty little maidens about to make their 
first communion. 

When the service is over, these little com- 
municants wear their white garb all day long, 
and go about visiting all their relatives and 
friends until nightfall. At each household they 
visit they expect a gift, sometimes it is a rosary 
or a prayer book, or a locket, and sometimes 
it is money put in the shoe for luck. 

Oisette’s day ended with a drive out to Bord 
a Plouffe, near the end of the Island of Mont- 
real, where the Sacred Heart Convent is to 
be found. Here she visited her two older sis- 
ters who were at school. She heard the chil- 
dren sing “ Stella Maris,” she watched a pro- 
cession about the grounds, little girls making 
a “ Novena,” and she had a glass of milk and 
some cake. Best of all, one of the nuns gave 


Two Wonderful Events 23 

her a lovely little silk banner with the figure 
of Joan of Arc woven on it. This she took 
home and hung on her bedroom wall. It be- 
came one of her very dearest possessions. 

The midnight mass as celebrated at the 
Notre Dame Cathedral in Montreal is a sight 
no one can forget. About eleven p. M. on the 
night before Christmas, the wonderful chime 
of bells sends out its clamor on the frosty air. 
“ Chim-Chime, Chim-Chime ” — they sound 
from out the high twin towers, and when the 
Great Bourdon sounds the note in its deep 
throat the notes carry many miles. It is not 
sounded every day, but for weddings, funerals 
and on great church festivals, and its tones are 
heard above the noise of trolley cars, sleigh 
bells and other street traffic. On Christmas 
Eve these chimes are heard by the tired Christ- 
mas shoppers, and the still more weary shop 
girls, and the streams of people on their way 
home from the theaters. Little Oisette, in a 


24 Our Little Quebec Cousin 

warm velvet coat, a red toque on her head and 
a red knitted scarf wound around her waist, 
long red stockings pulled on over her boots, and 
rubbers put over these stockings, was lifted into 
the family sleigh and tucked well under the 
buffalo robes — she could still see the sky, full 
of wonderful stars, and she could hear, even 
through her toque, which was well over her 
ears, the booming of the Great Bourdon. 

She liked the way the snow squeaked under 
the runners of the sleigh, she liked the way the 
big farm horses kicked the snow, she liked the 
way the evergreen boughs, loaded with snow, 
held out their branches toward her. 

There is nothing more comfortable than one 
of these Canadian sleighs full of robes; they 
are built low on runners close to the ground, 
and they have a high back which keeps off the 
wind. The whole effect is somewhat like a 
wooden bathtub on runners; the seats are wide 
enough to hold a whole family. 



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Two Wonderful Events 25 

How proud our little Quebec cousin felt to 
be riding with her father, her mother, her two 
sisters and two brothers I Her cheeks grew 
red and redder with the thrill of it. There 
were hot bricks in the bottom of the sleigh to 
keep her mother’s feet warm, her two sisters 
held hot potatoes in their muffs. The French 
Canadian knows how to conserve heat. Long 
before the day of Thermos bottles and fireless 
cookers he heated bricks and stones, and sealed 
up the windows of his home against all wintry 
blasts. It is a very stuffy atmosphere they 
breathe, but there is so much latent heat stored 
in their bodies that they can take a long drive, 
if well mufffed, without the chill of the weather 
penetrating their bones. 

Oisette Mary’s eyes grew round and rounder 
with surprise as they drove into the city and 
she saw the blaze of electric signs for the first 
time. The portals of the great church looked 
very gloomy in comparison until they entered 


26 Our Little Quebec Cousin 

the church, and then she saw for the first time 
the high altar, with its splendor of colored 
lights. It is a sight to take the breath away. 
Tall candles, short candles, clusters of red, 
green, blue, yellow lights all twinkling like stars ; 
and the organ playing delightful music. 

Her father picked Oisette up in his arms, 
and they went down a long side aisle to visit 
the manger of the Infant Christ. There it was, 
very lifelike indeed; piles of straw, heads of 
cattle, the Infant Christ in wax was lying in 
some straw, and there were kneeling figures of 
Joseph and Mary by its side. 

After a while Oisette and her father were 
seated in a pew very close to the chancel and 
she could see the priests, nineteen in all, who 
waited on the archbishop; then the little aco- 
lytes, six in number, who waited on the priests, 
were a pretty sight. The organ played 
“ Adeste Fidelis.” Then the mass began. The 
incense poured up in volumes toward the 


Two Wonderful Events 27 

groined roof. At last Oisette fell asleep on 
“ bote of de eye,” as the French Canadian 
would express it, and she never awakened until 
they were traveling homeward again. 

“ Do you know where you are, little one? ” 
asked the father, as he cracked his whip. ” I 
am on the front seat with mon pere,” she re- 
plied with a sleepy smile, and curled up again 
like a little dormouse. 

Now one would imagine that when her home 
was reached, Oisette Mary would, before going 
to bed, hang up her stocking and prepare for 
a visit from Santa Claus; or even — it being 
about two o’clock in the morning — that she 
might find he had already filled her stocking 
or decked a Christmas tree for her delight. 

Not a bit of it! The French Canadian child 
does not give nor does she receive gifts on 
Christmas Day. For these people the day is 
simply a religious festival; a holy day rather 
than a holiday. 


28 Our Little Quebec Cousin 

So Oisette Mary, at two o’clock in the morn- 
ing of Christmas Day, was given a bowl of hot 
pea soup, with plenty of onion in it — and put 
to bed. 



SOME OF THE BOYS ARRIVING ON SNOWSHOES BROUGHT FRIENDS 

WITH THEM 



CHAPTER III 


NEW year’s day 

New Year’s Eve in the Province of Quebec 
is quite another story; when that time arrived 
Oisette Mary was allowed to keep very late 
hours. Her brothers and sisters were all at 
home ; some of the boys arriving on snowshoes 
brought friends with them. 

A fiddler came (one could hardly call him a 
violinist) . He sat on a chair which had been 
placed on a table ; from this platform he called 
the dances and played his fiddle and beat time 
with his foot and sometimes, too, he sang to the 
music, and so did all the company. It was an 
orgy of sound. 

Oisette kept awake until after supper; she 
was allowed a generous slice of an especially 
prepared cake known as “ gillete du beurre ” 


29 


30 Our Little Quebec Cousin 

which the well-to-do Habitant serves to his 
guests at this season. Her pockets were full 
of nuts and raisins, and she was holding a new 
doll in her arms. As they arrived, every one 
kissed her on both cheeks, as is the French 
custom, and every one called out “ Heureux 
Annee ” to her; which is their way of saying 
“ Happy New Year.” 

During the festivities, the village Cure came 
in to call. He stood and watched the dancing 
and applauded the musician. He also shook 
hands with each member of the family and 
their guests. He sang with them, feasted with 
them, and smoked with the men. He was a 
very lovable character and had a wonderful 
power for good among his people. He 
brought Oisette a box of figs as a New Year’s 
offering, and he patted her on the head when 
at last she went away to bed. The Cure went 
home at midnight, but the party went on until 
dawn. 


New Year’s Day 31 

The following morning, when Oisette awoke 
from her slumbers, she saw on the windowsill 
a little sparrow hopping about on the snowy 
ledge, so she tossed back the quilts, and ran 
down to her mother to beg for some crumbs. 

To her surprise all her family objected, until 
it was explained to her by her father, that, 
according to a superstition that the French 
Canadian holds, no person should be allowed 
to carry anything out of a house on New Year’s 
Day until something fresh has been brought 
in. 

So she stood, with a tin biscuit box in her 
hand, in which were a lot of crumbs, waiting 
until some one should enter the outside door. 
It was very hard work for her to wait, and 
the bird seemed very impatient, but the family 
had said no, and when those who are older 
say no, it does not do to disobey. The French 
Canadian child is naturally obedient. 

Presently she was rewarded and her tears 


32 Our Little Quebec Cousin 

turned to smiles, for with much scraping and 
pounding the outer door opened and in came 
her Uncle Napoleon, his arms filled with an 
assortment of packages. 

Now, Napoleon was a guest of honor, for he 
was a young priest, and had but recently re- 
turned from the city of Baltimore, in the United 
States, where he had been in retreat. He, too, 
kissed all his relatives on both cheeks, as he 
distributed his gifts. When he came to little 
Oisette he put in her hand a small box, the 
top of which was full of small holes. “ Have 
a care, little one,” he said, “ for your gift is 
alive.” 

Oisette was so thrilled that she let her tin 
box drop with a bang, crumbs and all. “ Is 
it a mouse?” she ventured, “or a bird, mon 
oncle? ” 

Napoleon laughed and shook his head. 
“ This box will make a good home for it,” he 
said. “ If we find some sand, some stones and 


' New Year’s Day 33 

some water.” “It is a fish then!” declared 
her father, only he called it “ un poisson.” 

In the meantime the little girl placed the 
package on the table and opened it carefully. 
“ Oh — 00 1 la-la,” she said, as out walked, 
very, very slowly, a baby turtle — just two 
inches long from tip to tip. 

There were directions with it, from the vicar 
at St. Remo, explaining that it was full size and 
would need a little water to live in, a few 
crumbs and flies to live on. 

So with stones taken from a flower pot, and 
sand from a celery box, a nice home was made 
inside the tin biscuit box. 

On an island or dock formed by the stones 
and a bit of wood, the little turtle came out to 
sun himself when tired of the water. It was 
amusing, indeed, to watch him study his own 
image which was reflected in the side of the tin 
box. This tin, you see, was as clear and bright 
as a mirror, and to watch him bob his head 


34 Our Little Quebec Cousin 

about as he stopped to reflect on his new estate 
made the whole family laugh like children. 

His little mistress wanted to call him “ Van- 
ity,” but her Uncle Napoleon told her that 
the good vicar of St. Remo had named him 
“ Jean Batiste,” which is the French for John 
the Baptist! 

Oisette was a tender-hearted little girl and 
she did not long forget that there were some 
little birds out in the cold dooryard, waiting for 
her to feed them. “ Now, you see,” she ex- 
plained to her uncle, “ since you have entered 
our house and brought in a turtle, I can carry 
out some crumbs to the poor oiseaux, — and, I 
suppose,” she mused, “ it means that we shall 
have turtles coming in all the year since a turtle 
was the first thing brought in on the glad New 
Year’s Day.” 

Her Uncle Napoleon laughed very hard at 
this philosophy, and said : “ But I should think 

the milk was brought in the first thing very 


New Year’s Day 35 

early this morning, was it not, little one? Cer- 
tainly you will have milk all the year, will you 
not?” 

“Yes,” chimed in her father. “We must 
thank the Bon Dieu that we shall have milk 
all the year.” 

Why had they not thought of that sooner, 
Oisette wondered, and not kept the birds wait- 
ing all this time! She could hear them now, 
chirp, chirp, chirp as though to hurry her. 

Just at that moment Jean Batiste put his 
head out and winked solemnly and Oisette Mary 
opened the outer door and threw out plenty 
of crumbs; so it would seem that everybody 
and everything about the Tremblent farm had 
a Happy New Year. 


CHAPTER IV 


NEW NEIGHBORS 

That January an English-speaking family 
rented a house right next to the Tremblent 
home. Oisette watched them as they moved 
in, with the greatest interest; she soon dis- 
covered that there were two girls and a smaller 
boy. The boy seemed to be about her own age. 

As soon as they were settled, their governess 
came out from the city of Montreal, on a tram 
car, to teach them each morning. Oisette 
learned also to watch for her appearance. 

Then, when the mysterious lessons were over, 
the pupils, well bundled in very warm clothing, 
would escort their governess to the trolley sta- 
tion; after that they were free to play out in 
the beautiful snow all the day long. 

36 


New Neighbors 37 

They built a huge snow fort to keep out the 
Indians, which the boy insisted still lurked in 
the woods back of Mount Royal. They built 
a snow house to live in, a room for each one 
of them, and an extra room for guests, since 
there was plenty of snow; and, last of all, they 
started a wonderful snow man, which was to 
stand on guard at the house door. 

At first Oisette was terribly shy about play- 
ing with them, but they were inclined to be 
friendly with her and even tried to talk in the 
French tongue with her, for their governess had 
told them to do so. When finally they saved 
a bone every day for Carleau, so that he spent 
most of his daylight hours in holding the fort 
for them, and when they begged Oisette to 
show them her turtle, she was won over. 

And after a week or so she boldly showed 
them how to improve their snow man by mark- 
ing his face with lumps of charcoal for eyes, 
red flannel for lips, an old pipe stuck in his 


38 Our Little Quebec Cousin 

mouth, and a very battered old hat of her 
father’s on his head, she became their strongest 
ally. In fact she received so much praise from 
the Dudley family that she became quite em- 
barrassed. However, she learned to call them 
all by their baptismal names. Such good sturdy 
English names they were. The boy was George 
Howard Dudley, he being named for King 
George of England of course, and the elder 
girl was Alexandra May after the Dowager 
Queen and present queen of England, and the 
younger was called Victoria after her own 
grandmother, who, in her time, had been named 
after Queen Victoria, who reigned over the 
British Empire so many, many years. This 
younger little Dudley girl was always called 
“ Queenie,” which name Oisette thought was 
very beautiful indeed. 

One day they were all out toboganning to- 
gether on the hillside when a funeral proces- 
sion passed along the road below. As the 


New Neighbors 39 

hearse appeared in sight little Oisette stopped 
in her play and crossed herself; the others, 
after a moment, stopped their shrill screaming 
too, and waited respectfully. 

One of the children who was sliding on the 
hillside that morning was a little American 
cousin from Plattsburgh, New York; being a 
newcomer, she had never before seen a hearse 
just like this one. 

It was white all over, runners and body and 
harness, and on the four corners of this hearse 
were figures made in white plaster; these figures 
represented kneeling angels, and they had gold 
tipped wings and were holding long gold 
trumpets to their lips. In the center of the top 
of this vehicle was an upright gilt cross and 
from it floated long streamers of white, these 
flapped in the chill wind. 

Three sleigh loads of mourners followed, 
and though they had black crepe streamers tied 
to their fur caps, they did not appear mournful 


40 Our Little Quebec Cousin 

at all, for the men were smoking pipes and 
chatting together, and they all leaned out to 
look at the snow man which the children had 
constructed. 

Among the well-to-do French Canadian fam- 
ilies in the Province of Quebec, a white hearse 
and a white casket is always used for the burial 
of a child. If they cannot afford this, they 
simply hire “a rig” as they call it; and put 
as many of the family on the rear seat as the 
space will allow, and on the front seat sits the 
father and drives the horse, while in his lap 
he holds the tiny white coffin, and in it is the 
body of the little dead child. Many, many 
of these primitive funeral processions pass 
along the Cote-des-Neiges Road to the Roman 
Catholic Cemetery which lies behind the moun- 
tain — for the infant mortality in this particular 
province is very, very heavy. 

On Saturdays, and on Sunday afternoons, 
too, this road takes a more cheerful aspect. 


New Neighbors 41 

when hundreds of boys and girls arrive on snow 
shoes, or come in long sleighs, dragging tobog- 
gans behind them, for these hills back of Mount 
Royal are a splendid winter playground. Al- 
most every winter there is a skii-jumping con- 
test, when some wonderful athletes come from 
Norway and other Northern countries to com- 
pete with these young Canadian athletes. 

Then, too, there are young Frenchmen who 
love to race their horses, sometimes they prac- 
tice the speed of a mare along these roads, 
and then some beautiful Sunday afternoon they 
take part In horse races along the river road. 

In wintertime it is so very cold that the great 
St. Lawrence river is frozen solid, and all day 
long traffic is driven over this ice from shore 
to shore. From the top of Mount Royal one 
can distinctly see the road which leads from 
the city of Montreal to a good-sized town on 
the south shore known as Longuell. This road 
is marked by little evergreen trees which have 


42 Our Little Quebec Cousin 

been cut from the forest and placed along either 
side of the roadway, to mark the path when 
dusk draws on. It is a very picturesque sight 
to watch this river road on a busy morning, 
when one can see a procession of red or blue 
box sleighs, each one being driven by a Habitant 
farmer, who sits on his bags of potatoes and 
onions and pork, and jogs along very comfort- 
ably toward the great city. 

Once every winter Monsieur Tremblent 
would drive his fine team of horses over from 
Montreal to Longueil by the river road to call 
on some of his political friends and that year 
he allowed little Oisette to go with him, and 
she begged to take the little Dudley girls with 
her, so they were all wrapped up with extra 
care and cuddled down among the robes on 
the rear seat, and when it was too late to send 
him back, it was discovered that Carleau had 
followed them when they left the island of 
Montreal and started out on the wide river’s 


New Neighbors 43 

frozen surface. The little Dudleys were just 
a little nervous at first, but they saw so many 
teams in front of them going toward the oppo- 
site shore that at last they forgot about the 
great river which lay under the frozen road. 

This shore at first looked like a thin blue line; 
by and by it began to look like a wall, and at 
last the children could see roads and houses 
and churches, and when they looked back there 
was the great city of Montreal, which they had 
left; now it looked like a thin blue line. 

Carleau caused some excitement by chasing 
off after another dog, and leaving the pre- 
scribed route. They had to stop the horses 
and call “ Carleau, Carleau, mauvais chien,” 
to coax him back again. When he did return, 
he was told to jump into the sleigh and lie 
down under the robes, at the children’s feet. 
Once in a while, if the sleigh gave an extra 
bump, he would give a short bark, but it was 
hardly noticed at all above the jingle of sleigh 


44 Our Little Quebec Cousin 

bells, the laughter of the children and the squeak 
of the runners over the ice. 

On each side of this road enterprising busi- 
ness men have placed advertisements, printed 
both in English and in French. The Dudley 
children found great delight in reading these 
aloud; for already their governess had taught 
them to read and to spell very well indeed. 

Our little Quebec cousin had to maintain a 
discreet silence, for she had never been to school 
and could not yet read either French or Eng- 
lish. On Sundays she recited her catechism 
to the Cure, and in another year’s time she 
would go to a convent, to be educated by the 
nuns, as her older sisters were now being 
taught. 

Fortunately, Monsieur Tremblent could well 
afford to educate his children, but there are 
many French Canadians who never learn to 
read nor write, because education is not free 
in this province and is not compulsory. Is 


New Neighbors 45 

this not a very sad condition of things to exist 
in a Christian country in the twentieth century I 
But we must not blame these people individu- 
ally. Remember, it is the government which 
controls such matters. Oisette had a quick 
mind and sharp eyes and by listening to the 
chatter of these English tongues she picked up 
a great deal of information. 

Each morning, all that winter, our little Que- 
bec cousin waited patiently for her playmates 
to finish their lessons, and be ready to come out 
and play with her. She had been told that 
she must wait and not disturb them, so she 
sat all hooded and cloaked by her cottage win- 
dow until she heard their voices. The French 
Canadian child certainly has two good traits. 
Obedience and Patience. 

When her neighbors finally came trooping 
out, she would open her own door with one of 
her slow smiles and call out “ Bon Jour, mes 
amis,” and then Carleau, who had waited just 


46 Our Little Quebec Cousin 

as patiently as his little mistress, would rend 
the air with barks and yelps of joy, and the 
wonderful playtime would commence. 

While the snow still lies deep in the woods, 
but the March winds and sunshine are causing 
the sap to rise In the trees, comes the magical 
time in the Province of Quebec, known as 
“ Maple Sugar Time.” In early days the 
Indians, who then Inhabited this land, tapped 
his trees aslant with a tomahawk and Inserted 
above this opening a strip of wood'or pipe from 
which the sap fell drop by drop Into a birch 
bark receptacle. This sap was boiled In earth- 
enware vessels. In this way they obtained a 
quantity of thick black syrup, the only sugar 
used by the Indians. As the sap was always 
boiled In the open, bits of bark fell into It and 
It had a smoky taste. But about fifty years ago, 
this maple sugar industry was more carefully 
looked after, and nowadays the well-to-do 
farmer has a sugar house, and a fine grove of 


New Neighbors 47 

maple trees, and glittering tin sap buckets hang 
on all the trees; and instead of a large iron 
kettle for boiling the sap, evaporators have 
been installed, where the sap runs in thin and 
clear and comes out a beautiful light brown 
sirup. 

Imagine the joy of little Oisette when she was 
allowed to go to a sugaring off with her little 
English neighbors. They drove off from the 
main highroad into a path in the woods where 
the runners of the sleigh sunk in deep slush 
and snow, and finally came to this tiny house 
in the heart of the wood. There was a fine 
wood fire under the evaporator, and from it 
steam was rising. The contents gave out a 
most delicious aroma. 

Each child was given a spoon and a saucer, 
and in the saucer was poured about a cupful 
of boiling hot sirup; this fluid had to be stirred 
around and around fast and faster, until it 
thickened. When it was about the consistency 


48 Our Little Quebec Cousin 

of butter it was spread on slices of bread and 
eaten while it was still hot. Each child tried 
to see who could be ready first. The Dudley 
children were expert at it, and sang “Waltz 
me around again, Willie, around, around, 
around,” as they stirred. Oisette felt shy with 
so many English children and would only say 
“ Voila ” when her sugar was ready to be con- 
sumed. 

Some of the older members of the party 
tried another method. They packed a pan full 
of clean white snow, gathered in the woods, 
and pounded it down very smooth and hard; 
on this was poured the very hot sirup, which 
formed at once into a sort of toffee, thin but 
clear and delicious to taste, but very chewey. 
somebody called it “ The dentist’s friend,” be- 
cause eating it is apt to loosen fillings in one’s 
teeth. 

Carleau, Monsieur Tremblent’s dog, had 
arrived at the sugar house with the sleigh, and 


New Neighbors 49 

some one was unkind enough to give him a bit 
of this maple toffee. Poor Carleau, it glued 
his teeth tight together so that he could not 
bark, nor could he chew. The only thing he 
could do was to shake his head sadly from side 
to side and whine and whine and whine. This 
act made the whole party laugh in chorus, and 
dogs are very sensitive creatures, so when he 
discovered that this derision was directed 
toward him, he forsook the party altogether 
and trotted off home alone. 

Later on in the afternoon, there came a time 
when the merrymakers themselves began to 
feel a little ill at ease, and longed to be off 
home and get a good drink of water. Then 
some one produced a big bottle of pickles and 
passed those about. Pickles never tasted so 
good before to any one as they did to that 
sugaring off party in the Canadian woods. 

When the little girls were again in the big 
sleigh, ready to go home, each one was pre- 


50 Our Little Quebec Cousin 

sented with a nice little cake of sugar, with 
escalloped edges. Oisette put hers carefully 
away in her treasure box. It was quite a long 
time before she cared to eat it: and as for 
Carleau, when he smelled sirup boiling in his 
master’s kitchen, he fled out of doors. 

It is marvelous to watch such a winter break 
up. The snow, which has planted its four 
feet deep in the city streets, is, of course, carted 
away on the main thoroughfares, so that the 
cars can be operated with the aid of sweepers 
and shovelers; but on the side streets when 
after a big storm the snow is piled in banks 
each side of the pavement, it is very like walk- 
ing through a beautiful white tunnel, of course 
the tunnel has no top, and one is able to see 
the beautiful blue sky overhead, and to hear 
the jingle of many sleighbells, as no vehicle 
on runners is allowed to proceed without these 
bells. 


New Neighbors 51 

The ice in the river, early in April, begins 
to crack and groan until suddenly on some 
sunny day, with a roar of sound, it piles itself 
high upon the banks. The melting snow on 
the hillsides runs down to meet it; the icicles, 
which have hung like white fringe everywhere, 
drop, drop, drop — like ripe fruit. Presently 
the double windows and storm doors are taken 
from off the buildings. The foliage on Mount 
Royal comes out a lovely green, the wooded 
hills are full of violets and trilliums, the latter 
is a three-leaved white lily, white and graceful, 
and when brought into captivity will thrive for 
a week if it has plenty of water. Summer 
comes on with a rush, and up the side of Mount 
Royal the elevator starts running for the sea- 
son. Do you see the only springtime is when 
winter may be said to leap into summer I 


CHAPTER V 


A SIGHT-SEEING TOUR 

One beautiful June morning, Miss Anstru- 
ther, the governess for the Dudley children, 
decided that she would like to take her pupils 
on a sight-seeing tour about the city of Mont- 
real, so that their study of local history might 
become something more than dry facts and 
dates to be memorized. 

When they boarded the “ around the moun- 
tain ” car, they were delighted to find Oisette 
Mary sitting beside her mother in one of the 
front seats. Her hair was braided extra tight 
and her cheeks shone with soap; otherwise 
she was her placid little self. 

The Dudley children were in high spirits 
and they raced through the car to get seats 


52 


A Sight-Seeing Tour 53 

near their chum. “We are to study with our 
eyes and ears to-day and not from books. 
Can’t you come along with us? ” 

Finally Madame Tremblent was appealed to. 
She was on her way for a morning’s shopping 
and she always went to The Bon Marche, kept 
by The Dupuis Freres, where all the clerks 
were French, and all the signs read in that 
language; she was armed with a long list of 
necessities for her growing family, and as 
Oisette was sadly in need of a hat she had been 
commanded to escort her parent thither. 

When they reached the Mount Royal station, 
where every one must transfer east or west. 
Miss Anstruther, gathering from the look of 
appeal in the little French girl’s eyes that she 
really would like to join the sight-seers, said 
to the mother, in her soft French accent, “ If 
Madame would trust her little girl to me, I 
would select the hat at Goodwears Depart- 
mental, as we have a message there to change 


54 Our Little Quebec Cousin 

some boots for George; and I recently pur- 
chased these sailor hats the children are now 
wearing In their millinery department. She 
could wear the new hat home and I would have 
the heavy one sent out on the noon delivery.’’ 
Olsette was wearing a purple felt hat adorned 
)vlth a green bow and the day was warm. 

Now, Madame Tremblent had herself longed 
to shop just once In the English part of the 
city, but the thought of going alone, lest she 
should not find persons who talked French, had 
prevented her from doing so. It came to her 
that If she let Olsette go just once In such good 
company, why. In a week or so the child could 
be her mother’s guide and she would see for 
herself all the wonderful things she had heard 
her neighbors discuss as they walked home from 
mass each Sunday. So she drew from her 
petticoat pocket a huge wallet and thrusting a 
bill in Miss Anstruther’s hand burst into a 
volley of French directed to her offspring to 


A Sight-Seeing Tour 55 

be attentive, to take care and not to be too 
late in returning home. Just then the tram 
for the east end appeared around the curve, 
and Madame was gone before the surprised 
governess could make any reply. The children 
tried to say it all over again — “ Soyez exact 
chez moi,” “ Prenez garde and bon jour.” 

“ Prenez garde means safety first,” explained 
Miss Anstruther, “ so I beg you all to keep with 
me, for Madame’s advice was good, and here 
comes our car for the west end.” 

Even the milliner took an interest in little 
Oisette. “ It is so unusual to see the two na- 
tionalities shopping together,” she said. It did 
not take long to find a white sailor hat with a 
gold and white ribbon around the crown, a fac- 
simile of the one Queenie was wearing; and 
the other errands being done, they set out for 
the Chateau de Ramezay in a cab. Their way 
lead down a steep hill, past The Windsor Hotel 
and Dominion Square. In this square Oisette 


56 Our Little Quebec Cousin 

found another statue to admire. This one was 
the bronze figure of a horse rampant and a 
figure of a Canadian soldier was holding the 
animal by its bridle. This statue is known as 
The Strathcona Horse and was erected in mem- 
ory of the brave Canadian boys who fell in the 
South African war. The regiment was called 
The Strathcona Horse after Lord Strathcona, 
a very wealthy Scotch Canadian who financed 
it in 1898. 

“ Did he race his horses?” asked the little 
French girl, for horse racing was something 
she understood. This question made every one 
in the car laugh, and Oisette was glad when 
the car turned into “ Rue Notre Dame ” for 
here she was more at home and able to tell her 
little friends more about the narrow streets 
that lead down to the river; how it was possible 
in olden days to barricade each end of a nar- 
row thoroughfare from the Indians; finally they 
passed her beloved Notre Dame church, and 


A Sight-Seeing Tour 57 

about a half mile further on they came to the 
Chateau de Ramezay. 

Here they alighted and entered a quaint old 
gateway, flanked on each side by pyramids of 
ancient cannon and cannon balls. The door, 
with its curious knocker, stood open, and, en- 
tering, they found themselves In a low ceiled 
hall. 

The history of this building is contemporary 
with that of the city for the last two centuries 
and so identified with past historical events that 
it has been preserved from vandalism of mod- 
ern improvement and is a genuine relic of the 
old Regime In New France. Though only a 
story and a half high, the Norman turrets on 
either corner of the building add to its dignity, 
and the plaster walls (plastered over thick 
stone walls) have a rich yellow color, remind- 
ing one of an ancient vellum missal mellowed 
for centuries In a monkish cell. 

In an old document still to be found in the 


58 Our Little Quebec Cousin 

archives of the St. Sulpician Order, it is recorded 
that the land on which this chateau stands was 
ceded to the Governor of Montreal in the year 
1660, about eighteen years after Maisonneuve 
planted the silken Fleur-de-Lys of France on 
these shores. Somewhere about 1700 a part 
of this land was acquired by Claude de Rame- 
zay, when he came from France as a captain 
in the army with the Viceroy de Tracy, and was 
for many years Governor of Montreal and held 
official court in the Council Chamber to the 
right of the entrance hall. 

It was into this room that Miss Anstruther 
first ushered her party, another long low room 
now used as a museum of rare and very valuable 
relics of Canada’s past. Everything is labelel 
by the Antiquarian Society which has this build- 
ing in its keeping. There were buckles once 
the property of some gay French chevalier — 
there were bones of a young Indian maiden 
discovered when builders on the mountainside 


A Sight-Seeing Tour 59 

were excavating for a modern dwelling early 
in this century, even her wampum belt was 
there, and from it those versed in Indian 
lore were able to tell her age, her tribe 
and the fact that she had become Christian- 
ized. 

Miss Anstruther instructed Queenie to read 
in French all the labels aloud and let Oisette 
translate for them; in this way they got on 
famously. On the left of the entrance is a 
salon where there is an old harpsichord, some 
very interesting old oil portraits of early 
French governors, and some curious candelabras 
and other furnishings of an early period. This 
salon was where Madame de Ramezay enter- 
tained her friends from France. How strange 
must these gayeties have seemed to the dweller 
of the wigwam as the lights from the chateau 
shone out into the night! Once, long, long 
ago, there was a garden in the rear of the 
chateau which reached to the very water’s edge; 


6o Our Little Quebec Cousin 

so the sound of the dancing and the laughter 
must have carried out on the stream. Nowa- 
days this land behind the chateau is filled with 
warehouses, and the view of the river gone for 
all time. 

What a contrast to the burden-bearing squaws 
must have been the gay French women in their 
powder and patches and hair dressed a la 
Pompadour as they danced a minuet in their 
stiff brocades and sparkling jewels, to the sound 
of a harpsichord. 

“ Oh, fair young land of La Nouvelle France, 

With the halo of olden time romance, 

Back like a half forgotten dream 
Comes the bygone days of the Old Regime.” 

Some visitor wrote those words in the visi- 
tors’ book where every one is asked to inscribe 
his name. 

After the children had absorbed the most im- 
portant contents of these two rooms they were 
ushered down a long flight of stairs, ladder- 


A Sight-Seeing Tour 6l 

like in their steepness, into the vaults of the 
chateau. 

These vaults were once the kitchens and 
laundry of the great chateau, the fireplaces were 
so huge the children walked right into them. 

They were shown old spinning wheels, old 
churns, a curious wooden bread-making machine 
and a mammoth brick oven, where twenty loaves 
of bread could be baked with one firing. So 
one gathers that not all who lived in this chateau 
were gay idlers after all. 

The most interesting vault was one leading 
out of these kitchens, as it was inky black owing 
to its having iron shutters, closed over closely 
barred windows. This, it is said, was where 
the family, the guests and all the servants had 
sometimes to hide from the Indians. When 
news came that some hostile tribe was entering 
the city all the women and children would be 
sent “ en bas ” (below) . 

After the English had taken Canada from the 


62 Our Little Quebec Cousin 

French, this same chateau was occupied by 
Sir Jeffry Amherst in his British uniform, and 
it is possible that from his garden he looked 
out over the river toward St. Helen’s Island 
and watched the smoke and flame arise from the 
fire when General de Levis burned his colors 
rather than let them fall into English hands. 

Then again, in 1775, the Chateau de 
Ramezay was the headquarters of the Conti- 
nental army of America, and Commissioners 
met in the council chamber to try and untangle 
affairs after Montgomery’s siege of Quebec had 
failed. 

Benjamin Franklin was one of this commis- 
sion, and down in the old vaults he set up the 
first printing-press that Canada ever had, and 
he issued manifestoes to the people. 

“ So, you see,” said Miss Anstruther, as they 
finally left this famous spot, ‘‘ that one building 
has housed first the French, then the English, 
and for a time some famous Americans, and 


A Sight-Seeing Tour 63 

nowadays tourists from all nations come to see 
its contents. It is the grandest relic of an 
illustrous past, and now, when you take up your 
history books and find the names of some of 
these men and women, they will seem more like 
people to you.” 

They had a long trolley ride into the west 
end of the city again, for they wished to reach 
the Grey Nunnery on the stroke of twelve, 
noon, for at this hour visitors are admitted to 
the Chapel. 

At last the conductor rang his bell, stopped 
the car and called out — “ Guy — Gee — 
Guy ” — you see, “ Guy ” is the name of the 
street on which this convent has a visitors’ en- 
trance. The French pronunciation sounds like 
“ Gee,” and as the conductor gives both French 
and English names when he calls the streets it 
made the children all laugh to hear “Guy — Gee 
— Guy — Grey Nunnery for you, Madame.” 
^This convent, so called from the dress of its 


64 Our Little Quebec Cousin 

community, was founded in 1692, when Louis 
Fourteenth granted power to establish general 
hospitals and other institutions for the relief of 
the sick and aged poor in different parts of the 
country. In a cemetery under the chapel lie 
buried the bones of some of the sisters who long 
ago came from France to found this order in a 
barren land — they have the heart of the first 
Mother Superior preserved in alcohol, but this 
is shown only to a devout few. 

A fire destroyed their first building, but the 
present convent has stood as it is about seventy 
years and over the main entrance is the in- 
scription — “ Mon pere et ma mere m’ont aban- 
donne, mais le seigneur m’a recivelli.” The 
governess read this aloud to her charges and 
then translated it into “ My father and my 
mother may forsake me but the Saviour will 
receive me.’’ 

This building of massive gray limestone 
occupies a whole block and houses one thou- 


A Sight-Seeing Tour 65 

sand souls. There are tiny babes whose parents 
have deserted them, there are older boys and 
girls, orphans, there are sick and aged old men 
and women, there are one hundred nuns and 
ninety novices to do all the work. All these 
lives are regulated by the sound of a convent 
bell. 

Exactly on the stroke of twelve noon, the 
chapel doors open and visitors are admitted. 
As soon as they are seated the nuns file in two 
by two, and recite the stations of the Cross 
in a low monotone. Often some nun with a 
very beautiful voice sings an anthem. When 
the service is over a diminutive sister remains 
behind as a guide to take visitors over the 
building; one who speaks French or English 
equally well. 

It is all very clean, from the great kitchens 
with vats of pea soup boiling and the laundries 
filled with steam in the basement, to the very 
top of the building where there are play rooms 


66 Our Little Quebec Cousin 

for the tiny tots. Here some of the older 
children line up and sing for the visitors and 
are quite ready to receive coins or candies. 
There is one room where blind people are 
taught to read and to do bead work, it is in- 
teresting to watch them select the right shade of 
bead by simply feeling the end of the box which 
holds them. 

In another room there are nimble fingers 
making wax flowers, weaving lace and doing 
embroidery. 

The drug store was redolent with drugs and 
a young nun was busy filling prescriptions; she 
laughed very hard when Queenie exclaimed: 
“ Why, I smell Gregory’s mixture ! ” In a 
tiny room there was a dental chair, in which 
was seated a young orphan, and a nun was 
busy filling this child’s teeth. Nobody was 
idle, even the very old men and women helped 
with the scrubbing of the floors and woodwork. 

It was just one o’clock when they came out 


A Sight-Seeing Tour 67 

again at the Guy Street entrance, and Miss 
Anstruther said it was high time they had 
luncheon. So they went to La Corona Cafe 
on that same street, and there, in a delightful 
out of door garden, they sat at a small table 
with the lovely blue sky above them and flowers 
all about them, and a very attentive waiter. 
It is quite like a Parisian cafe. During their 
meal they chatted together about what they 
had seen, and asked eagerly about what was to 
follow. 

“ It is a puzzle to decide,” said Miss Anstru- 
ther, “ whether we had best go up on Mount 
Royal where from that elevation I could point 
out to you many historic spots of interest, in- 
cluding St. Helen’s Island named after Cham- 
plain’s wife, who was a French Helen some- 
body — and Victoria Bridge built when the 
late King Edward was a boy of eighteen and 
he came out here on a tour, and stopped to 
drive the last rivet in this bridge, and the loca- 


68 Our Little Quebec Cousin 

tion of Bollard’s Lane, named from a brave 
young Frenchman who fought the Iroquois — 
or shall we go out to Lachine by trolley in 
time to take the boat over the rapids, that 
will bring us into the docks by supper time and 
out home a half hour later. 

“ I vote for whichever will have the most 
about Indians,” said George, “ we can see the 
Victoria Bridge when we travel any day.” At 
this moment a party of French politicians en- 
tered the enclosure and Oisette’s eyes dilated 
with amazement, “ Mon pere I ” she exclaimed. 
Sure enough, it was Monsieur Tremblent, and 
he, too, was amazed to behold his little girl 
in a new white sailor hat. Miss Anstruther ex- 
plained how Oisette happened to be with them, 
so he took a great interest in their plans, and 
after consulting with his party found he could 
put a motor car at Miss Anstruther’s disposal; 
in this they could cover more ground in the 
city and be taken out to Lachine, then the 


A Sight-Seeing Tour 69 

party could see the rapids and the car could 
be brought back to its owner at five o’clock, 
when he would be returning from the political 
meeting. 

Their plans were soon made, and their first 
stop was to be on Sherbrooke Street just west 
of Guy Street, where behind huge gray stone 
walls, is situated the grand seminary of the 
Sulpician Order. Entering these grounds, they 
could see the huge building which houses four 
hundred or more students, all preparing for 
the priesthood, but one reason of their visit 
was to see the two stone towers in the grounds 
which were built in very early times and remain 
standing in an excellent state of preservation. 
One of these old towers was used as a chapel 
for the Indian mission and the other as a 
school. A tablet on the chapel tower bears 
the inscription “ Here rest the mortal remains 
of a Huron Indian baptized by the Reverend 
Pere de Brebeuf. He was, by his piety and 


70 Our Little Quebec Cousin 

by his probity, the example of the Christians, 
and the admiration of the unbelievers; he died 
aged one hundred years the 21st of April, 
1690;’ 

Miss Anstruther reminded George that he 
had but recently read in Parkman’s history 
about this same Rev. Pere de Brebeuf, who 
was tortured to death by the Iroquois with 
every cruelty devisable. 

The school held in the other tower had, at 
one time, a famous native teacher; she was 
called “ the school mistress of the mountains,” 
and died in 1695, when but twenty-eight years 
old. Above the door of the western wing of 
the great seminary is the legend in Latin “ Hie 
evangel; bantur Indi,” “ Here the Indians were 
evangelized.” 

Next they rode along Sherbrooke Street, past 
a beautiful art gallery and some fine residences 
to the McGill University grounds, which lie at 
the foot of the mountain slope. This college 


A Sight-Seeing Tour 71 

was founded in 1821 and named from its 
founder the Honorable James McGill. Then, 
just a little further on, is the Royal Victoria 
college for women, donated by Lord Strath- 
cone, and a beautiful statue of Queen Victoria 
ornaments the entrance steps — this statue was 
designed by the Princess Louise, one of Queen 
Victoria’s own children. Miss Anstruther said 
she hoped some day her little students would 
become McGill graduates. 

As motors are not allowed on Mount Royal, 
it was decided that they would go out to Lachine 
by the lower road, in this way they passed very 
many interesting places. Near the Place 
d*Armes stood the house of Sieur du Luth, 
from whom the city of Duluth was named, and 
west of St. Lambert hill was a tiny house once 
the home of Cadillac, who left the then little 
French village to proceed westward and found 
the now beautiful city of Detroit. 

In the years which came after, such men as 


72 Our Little Quebec Cousin 

Washington Irving, General Montgomery, Ben- 
jamin Franklin, Benedict Arnold, John Jacob 
Astor all lived for some time in Montreal, and 
all had something to do with the making of its 
history. In many places the Antiquarian So- 
ciety has marked the various sites where these 
famous men made their homes. 

On this lower road to Lachine, and within 
hearing of the sound of the rapids, stands a 
very old windmill, said to have been built in 
1666 when La Salle came to Montreal, — there 
are also crumbling remains of a fortified chateau 
nearby and there is a well-founded legend that 
the old chimney attached thereto was built 
by Samuel de Champlain himself in his trad- 
ing post of logs. The snowflakes of three 
hundred winters have fallen into that great fire- 
place since those stones and mortar were laid. 

The Lachine Rapids were first run by a 
steamer in the summer of 1840 by the side- 
wheeler Ontario — afterward this boat’s name 


A Sight-Seeing Tour 73 

was changed to The Lord Sydenham — and for 
very many years an Indian pilot took the wheel 
and steered the course over treacherous rock 
and reef. From very early times these rapids 
had been navigated by Indians in their frail 
canoes, and they knew where the water was 
deep enough for a large boat to go. 

George Dudley was keen to see the village 
of Lachine itself and seemed quite worried 
because everybody was alive and well, as he had 
but recently read in his history of the Massacre 
of Lachine, but he had forgotten that it hap- 
pened in 1689. It was in the summer of that 
year that the Iroquois descended upon this 
little hamlet on a very dark night and sur- 
rounded every house at midnight, and then with 
terrible yells and war-whoops destroyed every 
house and killed every living being. 

It was nearly five o’clock when the little 
party left their borrowed automobile and 
boarded the steamer to shoot the rapids — they 


74 Our Little Quebec Cousin 

got right in the bow of the boat and Oisette 
stood on a chair where she could see the flying 
spray. 

Altogether, it had been a wonderful event 
in her life, for French Canadian children, as 
a rule, do not have a whole day’s outing, and 
when at last she was home again and tried to 
tell her mother about it, the good woman 
crossed herself to think of the dangers her little 
girl had come through. 


CHAPTER VI 


A LITTLE TRAVELER 

Industry is another trait which our little 
Quebec cousin has to her credit. 

The interior of Oisette’s home was filled with 
objects which go to prove this. For instance, 
all the bed clothes, with the exception of the 
sheets, consist of gay patchwork quilts. 
French Canadian children learn to sew patch- 
work when they are very young indeed. Oisette 
learned to put together red and blue and yel- 
low and white cotton cubes, which were made 
into wonderful squares of patchwork, just as 
soon as she could hold a needle that some 
older person threaded for her. She could 
thread her own needle long before she knew 
how to tell what hour it was by the clock. 

She knew that to have a quilt one must first 


75 


76 Our Little Quebec Cousin 

make thirty-six of these squares. In the 
Tremblent household were not only quilts that 
had been pieced together by a great grand- 
mother who had resided in Quebec City, but 
bedspreads made by a grandmother who lived 
across the river in a little village named Cham- 
bly, and many made by her own mother when 
she was a little girl. 

Indeed, on Oisette’s own bed was a quilt of 
marvelous pattern made by an aunt for whom 
Oisette was named. This aunt had since be- 
come a cloistered nun, and was shut in from the 
gay world and spent her time mostly in prayer I 

The pattern was known as “ The music of 
the spheres.” It consisted of circular bits of 
red and yellow cotton, which looked like onions 
floating in a bright blue sky. Right in the 
center of the counterpane was a big purple 
star, the long points of this star were tipped 
with yellow cotton and reached right to the 
edge of the bedspread. 


A Little Traveler 77 

.This comforter was used for the first time 
when little Oisette Mary was only thirty-six 
hours old. She was taken by her father and 
her aunt to the church to be christened; you 
know a French Canadian child is always chris- 
tened within three days after birth, and when 
the tiny babe was put back in its mother’s bed 
the wonderful quilt was spread over the foot 
of the bedstead and the proud father declared 
that the little one opened its eyes and noticed 
the lovely colors even then. 

A few months later, when she was old enough 
to be put down on the floor, she showed a 
great fancy for the rag rugs, with their gay 
stripes. These rugs are called Habitant car- 
pets, and are made by the industrious method 
of sewing together long strips of colored cloth, 
these strips are rolled into big balls, as large 
as one’s head, and six of these balls, when 
woven with carpet thread, make a very pretty 
rug. Most of the convents have looms where 


78 Our Little Quebec Cousin 

they will weave these balls for a small sum of 
money per yard. 

There is something very cheering about the 
interior of a French Canadian domicile. First 
of all, there is usually much clean paint, either 
yellow paint like the clearest sunlight or bright 
blue paint like a summer sky. Then the win- 
dow panes sparkle with cleanness, and the win- 
dow-sills are filled with flowering geraniums 
and fuchsias, the latter plant being a great fa- 
vorite in the French Canadian home. These 
flowers are usually growing in tin cans, but the 
tin is always very bright and shining. Then 
the wall papers are never dull or dark in color. 
Often they are either designs of bright flowers 
or gold stars. The pictures on the walls are 
always of interest. First and foremost there 
is always a picture of the Pope. Then a pic- 
ture of the Christ, and very often indeed 
one finds a picture of Madame Albani in 
all her diamonds and tiara as she appeared 


A Little Traveler 79 

when she sung for Queen Victoria at Windsor 
Castle. 

Albani, indeed, was a little Quebec cousin 
who became world famous. She was born at 
Chambly, near Montreal, in 1852, within sound 
of the roaring rapids of the River Richelieu, 
and in sight of the old historical fort. She 
was the oldest daughter of one Joseph Lajeu- 
nesse, who was a musician of sorts, playing the 
piano, the fiddle, the harp and the organ. In- 
deed, he played the church organ at Chambly 
for many years, and he taught singing in the 
Sacred Heart Convent at Back River. When 
little Emma Lajeunesse was twelve years of 
age, the family moved to Albany, New York, 
and she went to a convent school there, where 
her voice was discovered when she sang in the 
cathedral. It was the citizens of that city who 
made up a purse and sent her over to Italy 
to study music. And so out of gratitude she 
called herself Madame Albani. But when she 


8o Our Little Quebec Cousin 

became famous she returned to Montreal many, 
many times on concert tours, and was much 
loved by her own people there, who secured 
her picture to ornament their homes, and always 
speak of her as “ The lady who sings better 
than the birds.” 

Dr. Drummond, who lived in the Province 
of Quebec, once wrote some delightful verses 
in the broken English of the Habitant farmer, 
which lines describe hearing Madame Albani 
sing: 

“ Dat song I will never forget me, 

Twas song of de leetle bird, 

When he’s fly from its nes’ on de tree top, 

Tore rest of de worl’ get stirred. 

Madame she was tole us about it, den start off so 
quiet an’ low, 

And sing lak de bird on de morning, de poor little 
small oiseau.” 

Then the last stanza goes like this — 

“ We’re not de beeg place on our canton, mebbe cole 
on de winter too. 

But de heart’s ‘ Canayen ’ on our body an’ dat’s warm 
enough for true! 


A Little Traveler 8i 

An w’en All-ba-nee was got lonesome for travel all 
roun’ de worl’ 

I hope shell come home lak de bluebird an’ again be 
de Chambly girl ! ” 

That, you see, is why the photograph of 
Madame Albani is given a place of honor in 
our little Quebec cousin’s home. 

There is one ornament also that is never miss- 
ing from the French-Canadian interior, no mat- 
ter how shabby the surroundings. There is 
always a crucifix, which teaches its lesson of 
sacrifice and love to all. 

These people are a home-abiding race. 
They travel but little. If they have a fiddle 
and a pack of cards for amusement, they do 
not feel the lure of the moving picture theaters. 
Sometimes, if any of the family get ill, they 
will make a pilgrimage to the shrine of St. 
Anne de Beaupre. But very many of them 
never leave their happy homes for even one 
night. 

Oisette was twelve years of age before she 


82 Our Little Quebec Cousin 

made her first long visit away from home. To 
be sure, she had been at the convent school 
for three years, but that was on the Island of 
Montreal, and one journeyed there by driving. 
But to go by night boat to Quebec one hundred 
and sixty miles away, that was traveling. 

Just as the city clocks and church bells were 
sounding their seven o’clock duet, the big night 
boat for Quebec, known as the steamer Riche- 
lieUy swung out into mid-stream. The current 
of the river St. Lawrence is very rapid just 
here, opposite the city of Montreal. 

On the rear deck Monsieur Tremblent was 
standing and his little daughter Oisette Mary 
was with him. The month was June and the 
weather was very beautiful indeed. 

The little traveler gazed with rapture at the 
receding shores, bathed in a lovely sunset glow. 
Everything pleased her; she would like to have 
opened all the stateroom doors and taken a 
peep inside, but her father explained to her 


A Little Traveler 83 

that this was not allowed, except stateroom 
number seventeen, for that he had a large key; 
and presently she could go to bed in the top 
berth, and watch the panorama of moving shore 
line from out the port hole. But she wanted 
to sit up as long as her eyes would stay open 
and watch the travelers ascend and descend the 
very grand staircase. Above the mirror, which 
one always finds on these river boats, just half- 
way up the staircase, was a full length portrait 
of Richelieu himself, in his gorgeous robes, and 
holding a scroll in his hand. Oisette tried 
hard to remember his name, and wondered 
if he had been a Pope! She would ask the 
good sisters at the convent when she had to 
return to her lessons. 

Presently she discovered in the salon, a large 
glass counter, like in a shop, where all sorts 
of fancy goods were displayed for sale. 

There were Indian baskets, picture post 
cards, and jewelry and candy. Her father told 


84 Our Little Quebec Cousin 

her she might buy a present to take to his mother 
who lived in the city of Quebec; she became so 
absorbed trying to discover what she could find 
that her grandmere would like that she never 
missed her father at all, she stood just where 
he had left her and gazed and gazed; while 
he was on the lower deck, having bought a 
cigar he stopped to chat with a commercial 
traveler from Ontario, who was much inter- 
ested to hear about the melon farm; and 
followed Mr. Tremblent back again up the 
grand staircase, when he went to find his little 
girl. 

Oisette had just decided upon an Indian bas- 
ket for her grandmother. This basket was 
woven in green and pink straw and shaped 
like a melon. “ It will hold her knitting,’’ she 
explained. “ And she will think of you when 
she sees the melon.” 

This amused the Ontario man, who shook 
hands with Oisette and asked her to help him 


A Little Traveler 85 

pick out something for his little girl. Finally, 
after much looking, a pair of red slippers with 
bead work on the toes was purchased. Then 
the stranger bought a very tiny straw basket, 
which contained a thimble; the latter just fitted 
Oisette’s finger, and she was made very happy 
when he told her she was to keep it. 

She made one of her deep curtsies, as the 
nuns had taught her, and said softly, “ Merci 
bien. Monsieur.” 

That phrase amused the giver so much that 
he took out his note book and wrote it down, 
and he asked her to spell it for him, and kept 
saying it over and over. “ I’ll tell my little 
girl,” he said, “ that these were your very 
words ! ” 

Oisette showed her father the thimble and 
whispered to him, “ I shall make him a quilt ! ” 
Her father laughed and repeated her saying 
to the stranger, who declared that the very 
next time he visited Montreal he would drive 


86 Our Little Quebec Cousin 

out to the melon farm and see how the quilt 
was coming on. 

At last Oisette was ready to go to bed. It 
was quite late now, but Quebec has a long 
twilight in summertime, and from out the port- 
holes she could see the little villages along the 
shore. 

.There was always a fine big church and a 
good-sized convent, and clustered about these 
were such tiny houses. 

Finally, she fell asleep and dreamed that 
the big churches were large hens and the little 
cottages were chickens cared for by the very 
big hens on the hill! And sometimes they 
seemed to be all racing along the river’s edge 
together. 


CHAPTER VII 


THE CITY OF QUEBEC 

The big steamer Richelieu was moored at 
the docks below the historic city of Quebec at 
seven o’clock the next morning. Tourists were 
allowed to remain in their staterooms until 
eight o’clock if they chose and breakfast was 
furnished on board. But Monsieur Tremblent 
and Oisette were early risers and were among 
the first to walk- down the gangplank, attend 
to their luggage and depart for the upper town, 
where Grandmother Tremblent would have a 
good breakfast of bacon and eggs ready for 
her guests. 

They did not drive up the steep hills in a 
caleche, nor did they take the trolley, for Mon- 
sieur Tremblent knew of a short cut; he could 
87 


88 Our Little Quebec Cousin 

reach his mother’s home more readily by walk- 
ing one block in the lower town and then tak- 
ing an elevator, which runs right up the side 
of the cliff and deposits its passengers on the 
Terrace, where the beautiful Chateau Frontenac 
stands. 

Already Oisette felt as though she were walk- 
ing in the pages of history: for she knew well 
the story of Samuel de Champlain, who had 
founded this city so long ago. How he made 
friends with the Algonquins and listened to 
their stories of rivers and lakes and boundless 
forests, and how with them as allies he led the 
French in many wars against the Iroquois, the 
most bloodthirsty of all Indian tribes; how 
he bore the welfare of his colony upon his heart 
to the very end, dying upon Christmas Day in 
1635. He was buried close beside Fort St. 
Louis, which is now the site of the beautiful 
hotel, the Chateau Frontenac. This hostelry 
often shelters nowadays ten times the number 


The City of Quebec 89 

of people who made up the population of 
New France, as Canada was called in the days 
when it was governed by the brave Champlain. 

Think of it! At that date six white chil- 
dren represented young Canada, and Madame 
de Champlain had scarcely any companions of 
her own sex, save the three serving women 
who had come with her from France. 

When the elevator deposited Monsieur 
Tremblent and Oisette Mary at the top of the 
cliff, a short flight of steps brought them to 
the Champlain monument, and here they paused 
to get the wonderful view of the St. Lawrence 
as it widens to the sea. Here Monsieur 
Tremblent had a fine opportunity to point out 
to his little girl many things of interest; on the 
opposite shore was Levis, and from there one 
gets a trolley along the river bank to the station 
where one can see the wonderful new bridge, 
which has the largest span in the world, and 
which crosses the river at such a height that the 


90 Our Little Quebec Cousin 

largest boats from over the ocean can sail be- 
neath it. 

The tin roof and spire of a great church rises 
on that bank also. It is the parish church of 
St. Romauld; this church contains very lovely 
mural paintings done by an Old World artist 
some seventy-five years ago. A wealthy priest 
spent all the money left by his mother’s estate 
in importing a young artist who had just won 
a grand prize in Paris, and entertained him as 
his guest for three years, until the work was 
done, and his paintings are growing more mel- 
low and beautiful as the years pass. Monsieur 
Tremblent had, as a small boy, been an acolyte 
in that very church, and so little Oisette gazed 
with rapture at the roof shining like a diamond 
in the morning sunshine. 

Goodness knows she was hungry when Ma- 
dame Tremblent’s house, situated on the Grand 
Alley, was reached; she found that her grand- 
mother, whom she had not seen for several 


The City of Quebec gi 

years, had grown smaller and thinner and wore 
a black lace cap on her head, but that her eyes 
were as bright as ever, and she had such a 
happy contented smile of welcome for her son 
and her granddaughter, whom she kissed on 
both cheeks. 

During the morning Olsette unpacked her 
belongings, and became accustomed to the tall, 
narrow, stone house, with Its long flights of 
narrow stairs, its tall, narrow windows; a house 
where one had breakfast In the basement, with 
windows on the street level, and received one’s 
visitors In a salon upstairs, a very grand room 
with lofty ceilings and heavy cut glass chan- 
deliers that tinkled when any one walked 
heavily In the room above. 

To go to her bedroom she had to climb 
another long flight of narrow stairs. But here, 
again, the view was so wonderful that she for- 
got to be homesick. 

Her grandmother owned a marvelous big 


92 Our Little Quebec Cousin 

black cat with yellow eyes that answered to 
the name of Napoelon, and also a dog, another 
Carleau by the way, old and feeble now, sleep- 
ing most of his time away, but he managed 
to wag his tail slowly when he heard little 
Oisette Mary’s voice. 

In the sitting-room, which was bright with 
red curtains, flowered walls and much fancy 
work of colored worsteds, there was a very 
yellow canary in a very bright clean cage. 

This bird had a very shrill little note that 
made one’s ears flutter, and he sang from the 
time the church bell rang for early mass until 
nightfall. Sometimes when he became too 
shrill, Madame would take off her black apron 
and hang it over the top of the cage and bid 
the warbler to “ marche a couche.” 

Oisette was very much amused at this camou- 
flage. “ It is the daylight saving bill for the 
pauvre oiseau,” she explained to her father. 

Monsieur Tremblent had much business to 


The City of Quebec 93 

attend to on this trip, but he managed to have 
Oisette go with him to the Falls of Montmor- 
ency, where the river of that name takes a 
leap of two hundred and fifty feet and joins 
the St. Lawrence; and to visit the Duke of 
Kent’s house. The Duke of Kent was the 
father of Queen Victoria of England, and about 
the house are growing the most lovely old- 
fashioned flowers. Then, one Sunday after- 
noon, they took a long ride on the trolley and 
visited the shrine of St. Anne de Beaupre. 
Even before they left the tram car, Oisette 
espied the stone basilica on the top of a very 
pretty green hill, and as they entered the village 
the chimes were ringing a processional and a 
number of cripples thronged through the pil- 
lared vestibule. This shrine is world famous 
and sufferers have come one thousand miles 
sometimes, to wait, like those of old in Bible 
days, for the moving of the waters. 

When they were finally allowed inside the 


94 Our Little Quebec Cousin 

church Oisette gazed in awe at the pillars cov- 
ered with cast-off crutches, which faithful pil- 
grims have left behind them as they have gone 
forth healed. Then she walked slowly down 
the church aisle with her father and saw the 
great statue in gold of the good St. Anne her- 
self, and they were shown by the priest a sacred 
relic. This is a small glass box and in it rests 
a bone which the faithful believe is the wrist 
bone of the dead Saint Anne herself. St. Anne 
was, you see, the mother of the Blessed Virgin 
Mary. Little Oisette knelt beside her father, 
and each was allowed to kiss the glass which 
held this relic. Doing this made them both 
feel very happy and good. 

The history of this shrine of St. Anne dc 
Beaupre goes back almost to the time of Samuel 
de Champlain himself. A traditional account 
of its foundation relates that some Breton 
mariners being overtaken by a very violent 
storm on the great St. Lawrence river knelt 


The City of Quebec 95 

in their boat and prayed to the good St. Anne, 
and vowed to her a sanctuary if she would 
bring them safe to shore. 

Their prayers were heard, the wind drove 
them ashore. So, high on this hill, they raised 
a little wooden chapel at Petit Cap and while 
they were engaged in its construction one of 
the men became the subject of the first miracu- 
lous cure. He. was badly crippled with rheu- 
matism, but as he worked on the building the 
pains all left him. Presently other cures fol- 
lowed and the shrine became renowned for 
miracles. It has been known for two and a 
half centuries. In that period it has been re- 
built many times over. The shrine that Oisette 
visited was built in 1886 and since that date 
has had over one hundred thousand pilgrims 
come every year to its healing altars. 

Now, every one does not get cured. Some 
who are brought there on beds stay week after 
week, trying so hard to get help. Others are 


96 Our Little Quebec Cousin 

cured after just one visit, and go away so very 
grateful and happy. 

Oisette and her father went through a mu- 
seum at the rear of this “ L’eglise de la bonne 
St. Anne,” and saw, carefully put away in glass 
cases, the most wonderful jewelery — watches, 
rings, bracelets — left behind by visitors who 
had been helped, and who wanted to leave 
some expression of their gratitude. Just what 
good such baubles can do is a puzzling question. 
But the wanting to give them is what counts, 
isn’t it? 

One morning shortly before their return 
home. Monsieur Tremblent had business at the 
Chateau Frontenac, so he told Oisette if she 
would wait for him on the Terrace, he would 
afterward take her to see the Citadel, and then 
they would have a view of the Plains of Abra- 
ham. 

This Terrace, known as Dufferin Terrace, is 
a lovely spot. There is a band concert about 


The City of Quebec 97 

ten-thirty every morning, and the people walk 
up and down and laugh and chat. There are 
always children playing out in this sunny spot, 
watched over by nurse maids, or fond mammas. 
There are always many tourists who come and 
go from the Chateau, whose great doors open 
on this historic spot. So, for a long time, 
Oisette was contented to sit quietly on a bench 
and hear the music and watch the crowds. 
Mingling with the civilians were a good many 
soldiers and blue jackets, for there were several 
big ships at anchor in the harbor below. 

Oisette didn’t care for soldiers. You see, 
she belonged to a peace-loving people, and to 
her the greatest honor which could come to 
her family would be to have a sister a nun, 
or a brother a priest. But soldiers were men 
who killed people, and she couldn’t understand 
why the throng on the terrace treated these 
uniformed visitors with such respect. 

Presently a little girl about her own age, who 


g8 Our Little Quebec Cousin 

was dressed all in white, and carrying a white 
and red parasol, came and sat down on her 
bench and smiled at Oisette. “ Hello ! aren’t 
you the melon child?” she said. Oisette al- 
most fell off from the bench in surprise. But 
she managed to nod her head. “ Don’t you 
remember me ? I knew you at once. We have 
often gone out to your place after melons, but 
they said you were away at a convent. Did 
you run away from the convent? I am sure 
I should.” As she talked, the newcomer moved 
along and held her parasol over Oisette’s 
head. 

This kindly act warmed our little Quebec 
cousin’s heart. “ Oh, no,” she said, “ I love 
the convent and the good sisters, but I am 
here visiting my grandmother.” 

“We are here,” said the child, “with all 
the family, to stay until my brother Reggy 
sails away with his regiment. He is in camp 
now at Valcartier and we ride out to see him 


The City of Quebec 99 

almost every day in the motor. I’ll take you 
if you like, some day.” 

French Canadian children are seldom rude, 
and to say to this little Canadian girl who 
adored soldiers, that she, Oisette, didn’t like 
them, would be awkward. At this moment 
the band struck up “ God save the King ” to 
mark the close of its morning concert; and the 
little visitor closed her parasol with a snap, 
stood at attention, and sang in her childish 
treble : 


“ God save our gracious King,^ 

Long live our noble King, 

God save our King. 

Send him victorious, 

Happy and glorious. 

Long to reign over us. 

God save our King.” 

^This ig the way Oisette sang the National Anthem: 
“ Dieu protege le Roi 
En lui nous avons foi 
Vive le Roi. 

Qu’il soit victorieux 
Et que son peuple heureux 
Le comble de ses voeux 
Vive le Roi.” 


100 Our Little Quebec Cousin 

And when that was over, Oisette saw her 
father approaching, so she hoped she would 
not have to say that she didn’t care much about 
a ride to Valcartier. But little Miss Sage had 
no idea of forsaking Oisette; she was too de- 
lighted to find some one from home. So she 
also greeted Mr. Tremblent with joy. 

“Oh!” she said, “are you going to the 
Citadel in one of those funny caleche things? 
I am crazy to ride in one. I want to go in one 
that has a yellow lining. Father says I would 
look like a fried egg if I got into one of that 
color.” Monsieur Tremblent had always liked 
this little girl when she visited his farm, so he 
said: “ If you will get permission from your 
people, you shall ride with us this morning. 
We will be three fried eggs.” 

While Monsieur Tremblent was making a 
bargain with a caleche driver, little Helen Sage 
was rushing about the Hotel Frontenac to find 
some of her family and leave word with them 



‘’‘"''are you going to the citadel in one of those funny 

CALECHE THINGS?'"" 





101 


The City of Quebec 

where she was going. At last, having found 
all the bedrooms empty, she went to the desk 
and wrote on a telegraph blank, — “ Have gone 
to the Citadel with the Melon family. Yours, 
Helen.” This she tucked under her mother’s 
bedroom door, and with a light heart skipped 
out to join her little friend. 

When you come to think of it, both these 
little girls are little Quebec cousins, so it is 
like having two heroines to a story ! Oisette 
knew well the early history of this wonderful 
walled city. The French achievements, and 
the names of the early Jesuits who suffered 
and worked among the Indians. And Helen 
Sage knew well the English side of the story: 
how General Wolfe had climbed with his army 
up the steep cliff and surprised Montcalm on 
the Plains of Abraham and captured all of 
Canada for the English. So Monsieur Trem- 
blent found it very interesting to listen to their 
comments as they walked about inside the pic- 


102 Our Little Quebec Cousin 

turesque Citadel. Helen knew the age and his- 
tory of the chain gate by which they entered. 
She knew, too, which of the cannon had been 
captured by the British at Bunker Hill. She 
patted it and said: “It is the nicest cannon 
here, isn’t it? Father says, ‘ They have the hill 
but we’ve got the cannon ’ ! ” 

The result of this trip was very interesting. 
Helen insisted on taking Oisette in their motor 
the next morning all over the city of Quebec, 
until she knew every bit of it externally. The 
St. Louis Gate, named by Cardinal Richelieu 
after his Royal Master, Louis XIV of France; 
the Dufferin Gate, named from one of the 
earlier Governor Generals of Canada, the Earl 
of Dufferin, a most popular Irishman, who 
helped blend the two nationalities in a wonder- 
ful manner. A fascinating old curiosity shop 
in an old house that was once the town house 
of the Duke of Kent. She pointed out all 
the tablets and the headquarters and the graves 


The City of Quebec 103 

of the famous warriors of olden times. And, 
in her turn, Oisette took Helen to see “ Notre 
Dame des Victories,” the oldest church in this 
country, built as Champlain directed. She 
showed her the sign of the Golden Dog, and 
read to her the inscription: 

“ Je suis un chien qui ronge I’os 
En le rongeant je prends mon repos, 

Un jour viendra, qui n’est pas venu, 

Que je mordrai qui m’aura mordu.” 

Translated this reads: 

“ I am the dog that gnaws his bone 
I crouch and gnaw it all alone, 

A time will come, which is not yet. 

When I’ll bite him by whom I’m bit.” 

There is a tablet in gold on a plain bare 
frontage. A dog gnawing a bone, the dog is 
couchant (lying down), the bone is that of a 
man’s thigh-bone! Madame Tremblent had 
told Oisette the interesting legend of Le Chien 
D’or. It had its origin in the mercenary prac- 
tices of the last Intendant of Quebec under the 


104 Little Quebec Cousin 

French regime — Intendant means a “ City 
Manager ” of modern times. This wicked 
one’s name was Bigot. At a time when food 
was very scarce indeed, and ships from France 
bringing provisions to her colony were delayed 
by wind and weather, Bigot gathered from poor 
farmers all the grain and food stuffs he could 
lay hands on and stored them in a building close 
to his palace, and when the time was ripe and 
a famine at hand he planned to sell back all 
this food to the poor farmers who had raised 
it, and to charge them a very big price. The 
building where he stored all his goods became 
known as La Frippone — “ The cheat.” 

Now, among the merchants of Quebec at that 
time was a man named Nicholas Jaquin, he 
was rich and yet he was generous. He had 
also a great warehouse on top of Mountain 
hill, where the Quebec post office now stands. 
He decided also to gather grain and foodstuffs 
and to sell them at the lowest possible price 


The City of Quebec 105 

to the poor. Naturally, when the Intendant 
found he was being undersold he was very 
angry, he tried in every way to punish his 
enemy, who over his door put this sign of the 
Golden Dog, and the people all understood, 
but were afraid to show too much sympathy, 
as Bigot had been appointed by the King of 
France. 

Finally, the Intendant caused his enemy to 
be slain in the streets of Quebec — the actual 
assassin escaped for a time, but the murdered 
man’s son tracked him to far off Pondicherry 
and struck his father’s slayer down — the story 
ends there. 

They also visited the Ursuline Convent, 
which has associations artistic and martial as 
well as religious. 

There is a votive lamp, lighted one hundred 
and seventy years ago by two French officers, 
who came to attend the ceremony of their two 
sisters taking the veil, which means that these 


io6 Our Little Quebec Cousin 

young ladies became nuns and never lived out- 
side the convent walls again. 

That lamp was to be kept burning forever — 
it was out for a short time during the siege 
of 1759; then it was relighted, and for well 
over one hundred years was never dimmed. 

This chapel also contained paintings sent over 
from France for safe keeping at the time of 
the French Revolution; and generally supposed 
to be by great artists, such as Vandyke and 
Campana; but even though they may be but 
copies they are very well worth seeing. 

The great General Montcalm was taken to 
this convent to die, and was buried within the 
precincts in a grave dug for him by a bursting 
shell. 

They also went to the Champlain market 
and to the Convent of the Good Shepherd, 
where the nuns dress always in white, and 
never cease their prayers day nor night; every 
six hours they change vigils, but always, always, 


The City of Quebec 107 

there are some of them there before the al- 
tar, and one each side of the steps of the high 
altar. ' 

Grandmother Tremblent took a great inter- 
est in this friendship, though she did not al- 
ways appear in person she directed many of 
the excursions and answered all of Oisette’s 
questions. 

The very first day Oisette arrived she had 
asked about Richelieu, and almost every day 
thereafter she had learned some new fact; she 
had a good memory, and when she got back 
home she would remember to tell her mother 
about the great boat by which she had traveled, 
and the picture, life-sized, of the Cardinal in 
his red robes, who had been Minister of State 
during the reign of King Louis XIV of France; 
in fact Grandma had said he was the true 
founder of the city of Quebec, for in 1627 
he had revoked the Charter of De Caen, a 
Huguenot merchant, and had organized a com- 


lo8 Our Little Quebec Cousin 

pany of one hundred associates, himself the 
head. The colonists were to be given lands 
and were to send all their furs to France and 
France was to send food to them, so that they 
would not have to do much farm work, but 
made fur peltries their sole industry. It was 
a niece of the great Cardinal Richelieu who 
by her charity and her gifts founded some of 
the early societies that existed in the city of 
Quebec. 

On the last day of Oisette’s stay with her 
grandmother, Helen Sage came for tea in this 
quaint old house and admired Napoleon, the 
canary and the fancy work. She was pleased, 
too, with the quaint old furniture; a prie-dieu 
chair in Oisette’s bedroom particularly took 
her fancy, the seat of this chair was very low, 
not more than a foot from the ground, and 
when lifted up revealed a little shelf for devo- 
tional books, and a devout person could kneel 
on this seat, facing the back of the chair, and 


The City of Quebec 109 

the top of the chair back was made flat and 
wide to hold the open book. 

In the dining-room was a beautiful mahogany 
sideboard. “ Oh, please, has it a history? ” 
asked Helen. “ It is very ancient, my child,’' 
Adadame answered. “ In fact it was for years 
stored in my grandfather’s barn under some 
hay, left there by an English officer who was 
recalled home. He told my people that some 
day he would come for it, but he never did, and 
at last the old barn was to be torn down, so 
my father gave the furniture to me.” 

There was also a glass cupboard, and desk, 
but all that Madame was inclined to say about 
them was that they were ancient — very ancient. 

Some years ago, collectors of the antique 
went thoroughly over the Province of Quebec, 
and, where it was possible, purchased the best 
examples of furniture and china and ornaments, 
which had been brought from France by the 
old Regime. The furniture of that day was 


no Our Little Quebec Cousin 

the most magnificent of all the French period. 
A few examples of the work of Andrew Boule 
found their way to the New World. He was 
the King’s Cabinet Maker and was a great 
ebonist (a worker in ebony) inlaying his work, 
gilding it, bronzing it — anything to make it 
very splendid. 

When tea was over. Grandmother Tremblent 
told them the story of Madeleine Vercheres. 
Most of the historians and the novelists and 
the poets of Canada have told and retold this 
true tale of a little French Canadian girl of 
fourteen, who was left one summer day with 
her two brothers in the care of two soldiers 
and one old man, while her father, the Seigneur 
of Vercheres, journeyed to Quebec. 

Madeleine was out on a hillside gathering 
wild strawberries when she heard a shot ring 
out far down the valley and going to the top 
of the hill her young eyes could see a band 
of Iroquois riding swiftly over the plain toward 


The City of Quebec in 

her father’s fort. So she sent the two soldiers 
to the block house to guard the women and 
children of the estate, then she and her brothers 
under cover of the dusk prepared dummies and 
placed them behind the walls; then, to further 
deceive the savages, she and her brothers pa- 
troled the fort through the night and called 
out “ C’est bien,” (All is v/ell) so that the 
Iroquois supposed the fort to be fully garri- 
soned, and though they lingered about for a 
time they did not dare attack. 

The next morning her father returned, and 
having learned that savages had been through 
the valley, brought a party of soldiers with him, 
expecting to find his home in ruins and his chil- 
dren kidnapped; instead of that a tired, hungry 
group of children greeted him with “ C’est bien.” 

“ So, you see, heroism was not confined to 
the men alone,” said Grandmother Tremblent. 
“ It was as It Is now In modern days, the women 
and even young girls who must be very brave.” 


CHAPTER VIII 


AT HOME 

Finally the day came when Oisette must 
say good-by to Quebec, to grandmother, to an- 
cient Carleau, to Napoleon, to the yellow 
canary, and then pay a last visit to the Terrace, 
and say good-by to everything there. The 
lovely view, the harbor boats, the statue of 
Champlain, the beautiful Chateau Frontenac, 
the band, and last, but not least, to the little 
Sage girl, who had been so friendly to her. 

All these things would soon be memories, 
banked in her mind forever and ever. Mon- 
sieur Tremblent and Oisette returned to Mont- 
real by rail, leaving the ancient walled city 
soon after the noontime, and, journeying back 
by a fast express, they reached the Place Viger 


II2 


At Home 


113 

railway station at six o’clock. Oisette proved 
to be a very good traveler. She enjoyed the 
view, she did not jump down from her seat 
and tear about as some other children were 
doing, but sat as her father had told her, and 
counted or tried to, the trees as they flew past. 
Sometimes she hummed softly her favorite 
song: 

“ Alouette, gentille Alouette, Alouette Je te plumerai, 
Je te plumerai la tete, Je te plumerai la tete, 

O Alouette, gentille Alouette, Alouette Je te plu- 
merai.” 

A very pleasant surprise was when they 
reached Montreal, and her father decided to 
stop at the Place Viger Hotel for a meal before 
they should take the trolley home. For, to 
tell the truth, Oisette was very hungry indeed, 
and so was her father. 

Presently they were seated at a little table 
out on a beautiful stone balcony, with pretty 
striped awnings, potted plants, where there was 


114 Our Little Quebec Cousin 

an orchestra of young ladies, all dressed in 
white, who played delightful music. The 
young lady at the piano kept smiling at Oisette. 
It was a new experience for our little Quebec 
cousin to have a full course dinner, served so 
beautifully, and to have pink ice cream. Do 
you know that ice cream is almost unknown in 
a Habitant home? To be sure, French chil- 
dren on the streets of Montreal have recently 
acquired “ the ice cream cone habit ” ; but ven- 
dors of these sweets do not peddle their wares 
out in the country. Oisette ate her dessert 
slowly, her dark eyes followed the waiter as 
he came and went, and now and then she would 
glance over at the pianist. 

When the meal was finished and they were 
about to depart, to her great surprise, as they 
passed near the piano, she heard a voice say, 
“ Bon soir, Oisette.” Monsieur Tremblent 
stopped, too, and shook hands with several of 
the musicians; and Oisette gasped with surprise. 


At Home 


115 

for one of them was a cousin of Olsette^s 
mother. This orchestra was composed origi- 
nally of the members of one family. Five sis- 
ters all trained by the nuns at the Sacred Heart 
convent. In three years’ time three of the sis- 
ters had married and in each case the gap had 
been filled by another pupil from this same 
convent. They were still known as the five 
sisters, and they still dressed exactly alike. 
The one who had addressed Oisette was the 
newest member of the little company. Only 
the winter previous, at the convent, our little 
Quebec cousin had played a duet with this Mile. 
Archambeau, and had done her part so well 
that one of the nuns had said to her, “We 
shall hear of our little Oisette on the concert 
stage some day.” 

During the five minutes’ rest accorded this 
hotel orchestra these girls chatted like magpies 
with the travelers, and sent messages to the 
other members of the family, and said they 


li6 Our Little Quebec Cousin 

hoped to get out to the melon farm some day 
during the summer, and warned Oisette that 
she must practice well on the piano, so that 
she might some day play another duet with her 
friend. Then the leader tapped his baton and 
the voices ceased. But the cousin whispered 
to Monsieur Tremblent: “We are going to 
play ‘The Rosary’ now. You’ll hear it as 
you go down in the elevator.” 

When the-round-the-mountain car stopped 
at Cote-des-Neiges that night. Monsieur Trem- 
blent and his little daughter alighted in the 
dusk. They planned to surprise the household. 
By crossing a meadow they approached the 
house from the rear, and thought it would be 
great fun to slip into the kitchen in the darkness 
and leave their parcels, and then perhaps take 
off their wraps. Oisette wondered if she might 
manage to be discovered playing the piano. 
The French Canadian loves a practical joke. 

But it happened that some one in a motor 


At Home 


117 

car passed the trolley in which the returned 
travelers were journeying and the motor stopped 
at the Tremblent farm about ten minutes before 
the car was due, and, of course, the visitors 
said whom they had seen. So Madame Trem- 
blent was ready with every room lighted, and 
doors open, and Carleau was barking his head 
off with excitement. The Dudley children were 
tearing up the road, calling out, “ Welcome 
home ! ” On the stove was a big pot of pea 
soup very hot, and on the table a big bunch of 
field daisies, which the Dudleys had brought 
early in the day. The big parlor lamp with 
its red shade was lighted, which meant that it 
was a very special occasion. Everybody gazed 
in surprise at Oisette. She certainly had grown 
a little taller, and she had a nice little manner, 
which quite unconsciously she had acquired from 
her grandmother. She forgot her shyness and 
told them everything; from the time she had 
left home until to-night when she had dined 


ii8 Our Little Quebec Cousin 

at the Place Viger. No pea soup to-night, 
thank you I 

When at last she went to bed she gazed about 
her own room with a new interest. The room 
seemed smaller than she had thought it before, 
but her pictures were so pretty. Nowhere had 
she seen anything she liked as well as her Joan 
of Arc banner wrought in silk. And there 
was her own bedspread again, “ the music of the 
spheres,” placed there in honor of her return. 

“ Chime, chime, chime, chime,” rang the 
church bell next morning. This was the bell 
that had awakened our little Quebec cousin since 
her birth. It sounded like an old friend, but 
what a funny, feeble little bell it was after the 
great tongues of the Quebec bells to which her 
ears had become attuned. 

Presently she heard the popping noise of fire- 
crackers, and Carleau barking madly in the 
door yard: and she remembered that it was 
July first. Dominion Day, a legal holiday all 


At Home 


119 

over the great country of Canada since 1867. 
There would be no work done by the English, 
and the trolley cars would bring numerous pic- 
nic parties out to the countryside : and the Dud- 
ley family were going to have great doings. 
They had tried to tell her about it last night, 
but her mind was still centered on Quebec. 

By the time she had finished her breakfast 
and was out in the morning sunshine, she gazed 
with rapture at the Dudley’s house. First of 
all, the Union Jack was flying from a tall flag 
staff, then the piazza was draped with red, 
white, and blue; all the posts were wound with 
red, and strings of Chinese lanterns were danc- 
ing in the wind. She was told that there was 
to be a children’s party and she was to come 
over to it, and they would like her to sing a 
little song, as there was to be an entertainment 
with the piazza for a stage. “ You are to sing 
in French. Our governess says that will make 
a pleasing variety,” explained the children. 


120 Our Little Quebec Cousin 

“ Here is what I am to recite,” demonstrated 
Queenie Dudley, making a deep bow toward 
Oisette : 

“ Four fingers, a thumb, on each little hand ; 

Make five jolly holidays all through the land, 
Victoria Day comes first. Dominion Day with its 
noise, 

Then Thanksgiving and Christmas for girls and for 
boys. 

Then comes the New Year, brimful of good cheer, 
Merry Christmas to all and a Happy New Year.” 

“ But that is not suited to the summertime,” 
objected her brother. “ Father taught you 
that for a Christmas party. You should have 
learned a new one by this time.” 

“ Bosh,” said young Queenie, “ you always 
recite the same old thing, every party we have 
or go to. You just make your bow and say: 

“ Speaking pieces. What’s the use. I’d like to know? 
Getting up before so many when it scares a fellow 


Presently the piano was moved close to the 
window, and the governess played some tunes 


At Home 


121 


and told the children to let her hear them sing. 

They all joined in with a will, and sang 
“ The Maple Leaf, the Maple Leaf Forever ” ; 
and “ Oh, Canada.” When they had sung this 
once through in English, she coaxed Oisette 
Mary to repeat it alone in French, which she 
did in a very winning manner. All day long 
on Dominion Day these children romped to- 
gether. Oisette felt it was good to be home 
with her dear little neighbors again; and when 
at last, tired out after the party, she went home 
and nestled down in her little bed she said an 
extra little prayer of gratitude to Our Lady 
for giving her such a happy first day home, and 
then, tucking the rosary under her pillow, she 
was soon asleep. 

Oisette, like so many little French Canadian 
girls who are convent trained, will become pro- 
ficient with her needle, she will play the piano, 
she will always greet one with a pretty bow 


122 Our Little Quebec Cousin 

and a soft shy voice should one come to visit 
her in this wonderful great land of Canada. 

The Province of Quebec is not all French, 
there are little girls with a Scotch accent, and 
there are those with an English accent, and in 
Ontario there are those very like American 
children. But perhaps the French Canadian 
child with her quaint little ways in her humble 
home proves far the most interesting to the 
traveler, and her simple life teaches every one 
who knows her a lesson of obedience and con- 
tentment. 

“ Chime - Chime - Chime - Chime ” — yes, the 
story ends here, but the bells still call and call 
little Oisette to awake, to come to prayers, to 
attend vespers — “ Chime - Chime - Chime- 
Chime.” 

Our little Quebec cousin bows her head when 
she hears them “ Chime-Chime-Chime-Chime ” 
— and life goes on. 


THE END 


Selections from 
The Page Company’s 
Books for Young People 

THE BLUE BONNET SERIES 

Each large 12mo, cloth decorative, illustrated, 

•per volume . $1.50 

A TEXAS BLUE BONNET 

By Carolike E. Jacobs. 

“ The book’s heroine. Blue Bonnet, has the very finest 
kind of wholesome, honest, lively girlishness .” — Chicago 
Inter-Ocean. 

BLUE BONNET’S RANCH PARTY 

By Caroline E. Jacobs and Edtth Ellerbeck Read. 
“ A healthy, natural atmosphere breathes from every 
chapter .” — Boston Transcript. 

BLUE BONNET IN BOSTON; Or, Boarding- 
School Days at Miss North’s. 

By Caroline E. Jacobs and Lela Horn Richards. 

“ It is bound to become popular because of its whole- 
someness and its many human touches .” — Boston Globe, 

BLUE BONNET KEEPS HOUSE; Or, The 

New Home in the East. 

By Caroline E. Jacobs and Lela Horn Richards. 
“It cannot fail to prove fascinating to girls in their 
teens .” — New York Sun. 

BLUE BONNET— DEBUTANTE 

By Lela Horn Richards. 

An interesting picture of the unfolding of life for 
Blue Bonnet 

A— I 


TEE PAGE COMPAKTS 


THE YOUNG PIONEER SERIES 

By Harrison Adams 

Each 12mo, cloth decorative, illustrated, per 
volume $ 1.26 

THE PIONEER BOYS OF THE OHIO; Or, 

Clearing the Wilderness. 

Such books as this are an admirable means of stimu- 
lating among the young Americans of to-day interest in 
the story of their pioneer ancestors and the early da^’-s of 
the Republic.” — Boston Globe. 

THE PIONEER BOYS ON THE GREAT LAKES ; 

Or, On the Trail of the Iroquois. 

The recital of the daring deeds of the frontier is not 
only interesting but instructive as well and shows the 
sterling type of character which these days of self-reliance 
and trial produced.” — American Tourist, Chicago. 

THE PIONEER BOYS OF THE MISSISSIPPI; 

Or, The Homestead in the Wilderness. 

“The story is told with spirit, and is full of adven- 
ture.” — New York Sun. 

THE PIONEER BOYS OF THE MISSOUPJ; 

Or, In the CkiuNTRY or the Sioux. 

“ Vivid in style, vigorous in movement, full of dramatic 
situations, true to historic perspective, this story is a 
capital one for boys.” — Watchman Examiner, New York 
City. 

THE PIONEER BOYS OF THE YELLOW- 
STONE; Or, Lost IN the Land of Wonders. 
“There is plenty of lively adventure and action and 
the story is well told.” — Duluth Herald, Duluth, Minn. 

THE PIONEER BOYS OF THE COLUMBIA; 

Or, In the Wilderness of the Great Northwest. 

“ The story is full of spirited action and contains much 
valuable historical information.” — Boston Herald. 

A—? 


BOOKS FOR YOUNG PEOPLE 


THE HADLEY HALL SERIES 

By Louise Mr Breitbnbach 
Each large 12mOf cloth decorative, illustrated, per 
volume $1.50 

ALMA AT HADLEY HALL 

“ The author is to be congratulated on having written 
Buch an appealing book for girls.” — Detroit Free Press. 

ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 

“ It cannot fail to appeal to the lovers of good tlungs 
in girls' books.” — Boston Herald. > 

ALMA’S JUNIOR YEAR 

“ The diverse characters in the boarding-school aro 
strongly drawn, the incidents are well developed and tho 
action is never dull.” — The Boston Herald. 

ALMA’S SENIOR YEAR 

Incident abounds in all of Miss Breitenbach’s stories 
and a healthy, natural atmosphere breathes from every 
chapter .” — Boston Transcript. 


THE GIRLS OF 
FRIENDLY TERRACE SERIES 

^ ■' By Harriet Lummis Smith 
Eaen large ISmo, doth decorative, illustrated, 
per volume $1.50 

'IHE GIRLS OF FRIENDLY TERRACE 

“ A book sure to please girl readers, for the author seems 
to understand perfectly the girl character.” — Boston 
Globe. 

PEGGY RAYMOND’S VACATION 

“It is a wholesome, hearty story .” — Utica Observer, 

PEGGY RAYMOND’S SCHOOL DAYS 

The book is delightfully written, and eontains lots ezdtiug 
incidents, 

A— S 


THE PAGE COMPANrS 


FAMOUS LEADERS SERIES 

,By Charles H. L. Johnston 
Each large 12mo, cloth decorative, illustrated, per 
volume $1.50 

FAMOUS CAVALRY LEADERS 

“ More of such books should be written, books that 
acquaint young readers with historical personages in a 
pleasant, informal way.” — New York Sun. 

“ It is a book that will stir the heart of every boy and 
will prove interesting as well to the adults.” — Lawrence 
Daily World. 

FAMOUS INDIAN CHIEFS 

“ Mr. Johnston has done faithful work in this volume, 
and his relation of battles, sieges and struggles of these 
famous Indians with the whites for the possession of 
America is a worthy addition to United States History.” 
— New York Marine Journal. 

FAMOUS SCOUTS 

“ It is the kind of a book that will have a great fascina- 
tion for boys and young men, and while it entertains them 
it will also present valuable information in regard to 
those who have left their impress upon the history of the 
country.” — The New London Day. 

FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN AND ADVEN- 
TURERS OF THE SEA 

The tales are more than merely interesting; they are 
entrancing, stirring the blood with thrilling force and 
bringing new zest to the never-ending interest in the 
dramas of the sea.” — The Pittsburgh Post. 

FAMOUS FRONTIERSMEN AND HEROES 
OF THE BORDER 

“ The accounts are not only authentic, but distinctly 
readable, making a book of wide appeal to all who love 
the history of actual adventure.” — Cleveland Leader. 

FAMOUS DISCOVERERS AND EXPLORERS 
OF AMERICA 

“The book is an epitome of some of the wildest and 
bravest adventures of which the world has known and of 
discoveries which have changed the face of the old world 
as well as of the new.” — Brooklyn Daily Eagle. 

A— 4 


BOOKS FOR YOUNG PEOPLE 


HILDEGARDE. MARGARET SERIES 

By Laitea E. Richards 
Eleven Volumes 

The Hildegarde-Margaret Series, beginning with 
“ Queen Hildegarde ” and ending with “ The Merry- 
weathers,” make one of the best and most popular series 
of books for girls ever written. 

Each large ISmo, cloth decorative, illustrated, 
per volume ....... $1.35 

The eleven volumes boxed as a set . . $14.85 

LIST OF TITLES 

QUEEN HILDEGARDE 

HILDEGARDE »S HOLIDAY 

HILDEGARDE’S HOME 

HILDEGARDE’S NEIGHBORS 

HILDEGARDE ’S HARVEST 

THREE MARGARETS 

MARGARET MONTFORT 

PEGGY 

RITA 

FERNLEY HOUSE 

THE MERRYWEATHERS 
A — & 


THE PAGE COMP ANTS 


THE CAPTAIN JANUARY SERIES 

By Laura E. Richards 

Each one volume, 12mo, cloth decorative, illus- 
trated, 'per volume 60 cents 

CAPTAIN JANUARY 

A charming idyl of New England coast life, whose 
success has been very remarkable. 

SAME. Illustrated Holiday Edition . . $1.35 

MELODY: The Story of a Child. 

MARIE 

A companion to “Melody” and “Captain January.” 

ROSIN THE BEAU 

A sequel to “Melody” and “Marie.” 

SNOW-WHITE; Or, The House in the Wood. 

JIM OF HELLAS ; Or, Ih Durance Vile, and a 
companion story, Bethesda Pool. 

NARCISSA 

And a companion story, In Verona, being two delight- 
ful short stories of New England life. 

"SOME SAY” 

And a companion story. Neighbors in Cyrus. 

NAUTILUS 

“ ‘ Nautilus ’ is by far the best product of the author’s 
powers, and is certain to achieve the wide success it so 
richly merits.” 

ISLA HERON 

This interesting story is written in the author’s usual 
charming manner. 

THE LITTLE MASTER 

“ A well told, interesting tale of a high character.” — 
California Gateway Gazette, 

A.-S 


BOOKS FOB TOUKO PEOPLE 


DELIGHTFUL BOOKS FOR LITTLE 
FOLKS 

By Laura E. Richards 

THREE MINUTE STORIES 

Cloth decorative, 12mo, with eight plates in full color 
and many text illustrations . . . . $1.35 

“ Little ones will understand and delight in the stories 
and poems.” — Indianapolis News. 

FIVE MINUTE STORIES 

Cloth decorative, square 12mo, illustrated . $1.35 
A charming collection of short stories and clever poems 
for children. 

MORE FIVE MINUTE STORIES 

Cloth decorative, square 12mo, illustrated . $1.35 

A noteworthy collection of short stories and poems 
for children, w'hich will prove as popular with mothers 
as with boys and girls. 

FIVE MICE IN A MOUSE TRAP 

Cloth decorative, square 12mo, illustrated . $1.35 

The story of their lives and other wonderful things 
related by the Man in the Moon, done in the vernacular 
from the lunacular form by Laura E. Richards. 

POLLYANNA ANNUAL NO. i 

Trade Mark 

The Yearly GLAD Book. 

Trade "Mark 
Edited by Florence Orville. 

Large octavo, with nearly 200 illustrations, 12 in full 
color, bound with an all-over pictorial cover design in 
colors, with fancy printed end papers. $1.50 

“ The contents of this splendid volume are evidently 
intended to demonstrate the fact that work is as good 
a glad game as play if gone about the right way. There 
are clever little drawings any one could imitate, and in 
imitating learn something. There are adventurous tales, 
fairy tales, scientific tales, comic stories and serious 
stories in verse and prose.” — Montreal Herald and Star. 
A— 7 


THE PAGE COMPANY’S 


THE BOYS’ STORY OF THE 
RAILROAD SERIES 

By Burton E. Stevenson 
Each large 12mo, cloth decorative, illustrated, 
per volume ....... $1.30 

THE YOUNG SECTION-HAND; Or, The Ad- 

VENTURES OF AlLAN WeST. 

“ The whole range of section railroading is covered in 
the story.” — Chicago Post. 

THE YOUNG TRAIN DISPATCHER 

“ A vivacious account of the varied and often hazard- 
ous nature of railroad life.” — Congregationalist. 

THE YOUNG TRAIN MASTER 

“It is a book that can be unreservedly commended to 
anyone who loves a good, wholesome, thrilling, informing 
yarn.” — Passaic News. 

THE YOUNG APPRENTICE; Or, Allan West’s 
Chum. 

“ The story is intensely interesting — Baltimore Sun. 

STORIES BY 
BREWER CORCORAN 

Each, one volume, 12mo, cloth decorative, illus- 
trated, per volume ...... $1.50 

THE BOY SCOUTS OF KENDALLVILLE 

Published with the approval of “ The Boy Scouts of 
America.*’ 

The story of a bright young factory worker who can- 
not enlist because he has three dependents, but his 
knowledge of woodcraft and wig-wagging gained through 
Scout practice enables him to foil a German plot to blow 
up the munitions factory. 

THE BARBARIAN ; Or, Will Bradford’s School 
Days at St. Jo’s. 

“This is a splendid story of friendship, study and 
sport, winding up with a perfectly corking double play.” 
— Springfield Union. 

A — 8 


BOOKS FOR YOUNG PEOPLE 


THE LITTLE COLONEL BOOKS 

(Trade Mark) 

By Annie Fellows Johnston 
Each large 12mo, cloth, illustrated, per volume . $1.50 
THE LITTLE COLONEL STORIES 

(Trade Mark) 

Being three “ Little Colonel ” stories in the Cosy Comer 
Series, “ The Little Colonel,” “ Two Little Knights of 
Kentucky,” and “ The Giant Scissors,” in a single volume. 

THE LITTLE COLONEL’S HOUSE PARTY 

(Trade Mark) 

THE LITTLE COLONEL’S HOLIDAYS 

(Trade Mark) 

THE LITTLE COLONEL’S HERO 

(Trade Mark) 

THE LITTLE COLONEL AT BOAmiNG- 

(Trade Mark) 

SCHOOL 

THE LITTLE COLONEL IN ARIZONA 

(Trade Mark) 

THE LITTLE COLONEL’S CHRISTMAS 

(Trade Mark) 

' VACATION 

THE LITTLE COLONEL, MAID OF HONOR 

(Trade Mark) 

THE LITTLE COLONEL’S KNIGHT COMES 

, (Trade Mark) 

RIDING 

THE LITTLE COLONEL’S CHUM, MARY 

WARE (Trade Mark) 

MARY WARE IN TEXAS 
MARY WARE’S PROMISED LAND 

These twelve volumes, boxed as a set, $18.00. 

A-4 


THE FAHE COMPANTS 


SPECIAL HOLIDAY EDITIONS 

Bach small quarto, cloth decorative, per volume . $1.35 

New plates, handsomely illustrated with eight full-page 
drawings in color, and many marginal sketches. 

THE LITTLE COLONEL 

(Trade Mark) 

TWO LITTLE KNIGHTS OF KENTUCKY 
THE GIANT SCISSORS 
BIG BROTHER 

THE JOHNSTON JEWEL SERIES 

' Each small 16mo, cloth decorative, with frontispiece 

and decorative text borders, per volume $0.60 

IN THE DESERT OF WAITING: The Legend 
OP Camelback Mountain. 

THE THREE WEAVERS: A Fairy Tale for 
Fathers and Mothers as Well as for Their 
Daughters. 

KEEPING TRYST: A Tale op King Arthur’s 
Time. 

THE LEGEND OF THE BLEEDING HEART 
THE RESCUE OF PRINCESS WINSOME: 

A Fairy Play for Old and Young, 

THE JESTER’S SWORD 


THE LITTLE COLONEL’S GOOD TIMES 
BOOK 

Uniform in size with the Little Colonel Series . $1.50 

Bound in white kid (morocco) and gold . 3.00 

Cover design and decorations by Peter Verberg. 

** A mighty attractive volume in which the owner may 
record the good times she has on decorated pages, and 
under the directions as it were of Annie Fellov/s John- 
ston.” — Buffalo Express, 

A— 10 r 


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